Saturday, 7 January 2017

She's The Leech, So Why Am I The One Without A Spine (Not To Mention An Ounce Of Self-Pride)?

As I tiptoed on eggshells and tailored my words to placate her, she suddenly started to look most unappealing to me as we entered the elevator. Abhorrent even. All these bitches I bestow my unwanted affections upon begin to sooner or later. And instead of continuing to try and cater to a cunt whose tongue is even sharper and more unforgiving than a razor, I thought of all the pathetic excuses for men over the years to whom she'd shown favour over me, all the disgusting fucking creatures that she'd let entertain her whilst I'd continued to foolishly, masochistically, unsuccessfully chase her. I spat, "you should be grateful any man has ever raped you. To show you that amount of love... I'm about to show you all that you deserve.... nothing but pure hatred." And as I rained my blows down upon her, for the first time in all my years of knowing her she was the reason for my heart's sudden, pure elation.

The doors opened and we alighted, and if only she knew, she'd be glad I'd kept my hands down by my side, only picturing all that sweet justice inside my mind. These bitches are so lucky I don't have a spine.

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