I am eighteen years old.

I have brown eyes as dark as
Tunnels that people can get lost in.

I'm a student; intellectual and tired,
And I love to party.

I am opinionated, yet indecisive.
Nihilistic, yet dying to believe.
Subject to change.

I drink fancy coffees and eat plain donuts.
My hair never falls into my eyes,
But I wish that it would, someday.

My scars show on the outside and in;
A blazing testament,
As I furtively try to tuck them away.

I'm ashamed of my past, yet
Talk about it freely.

I need a pill to feel happy, two to feel sad,
And one when I want to die,
But none to make me live.

I love winter, yet hate the cold;
Love rain, but hate wetness,
And I wear my heart on my sleeves.

I'm the son of rage and love:
Original, trustworthy, and manipulative.

I hope one day to know it all,
But I don't tempt fate.

My name is Kristoffer, and this is 2008.