I kicked him and I punched him and I poked him in the eyes. But strong he was, and then he does, nothing in return. But in his eye's I see the hate. The eternal loathing that he feels. He wants to kick my face in and cook it for a meal.
I thought he'd strike and knock me down, my imagination ran. Pure evil thoughts I thought he had, maybe he'd slap me with his hand. He'd pull my eye's out one by one just to hear me scream. Or maybe it's not the eyes he's after, maybe it's my spleen. He'd cut it out and walk about with it hanging from his ear.
But then I saw to my surprise that he was not to fear. I laughed at myself when I finally noticed it was just a mirror.
I thought this was kind of funny when I wrote it.
Talk to you later.
This was cute. I had to post it.
Just got done working out with Roger. He is being weird. BoyMS. Who else does that sound like? Then I got back and ate half of a pop tart. Way to be all healthy.
Things are getting better with Damask. Her family hates her. I have no sympathy for her because she is the poor little rich girl who always had everything and I have had to work for everything since I was 14. I never had anything handed to me. She just made poor decisions.