it was not what was said,nor the kick in the groin that followed,nor the bottle that hit my head,nthat made me feel i'd lost control.nit was how you were staring at,nthis empty space that i occupy,nwith a face that could testify,ni'd grown into someone you no longer knew.nnand when it hits you, it hits you hard,nthe feeling that that nothing is going to last.nmanipulated and distorted,nwatching the world go by too fast.nncome as you are,nand then leave as you have been.ndon't lose your head while wondering,nif it's better to burn out or fade away.nand if life is what happens while we're busy making other plans, nhow come that sounds like breaths of alcohol, nsaid by a man who'd lost control?nnand when it hits you, it hits you hard,nthe feeling that that nothing is going to last.nmanipulated and distorted,nwatching the world go by too fast.nnit's not what you're able to do that really matters,nthe things that we leave behind are what we are made of.nit's born as a small spark in the back of your head,nlives on as a fire, and it's still burning.