[I wrote this in Advanced Composition on Friday.]
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I am a metaphorical genius, figuratively speaking.
I am a sheet of music composed of noise, nature, and the hollow lies that you mistakenly took as facts.
I am the rumor spewed from the tongues of people who don't even know how to spell my last NAME! I AM THE SONG BLARING THROUGH YOUR DJ-QUALITY HEADPHONES THAT MAKES YOU CRY YOURSELF TO SLEEP.
(I am quiet without these words on paper.)
I am nothing without my haircut and my guitar, because you label me as some
FAKE. HIPSTER. TRASH!...
...I label you as LIAR and keep walking down the tracks.
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