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"Blood-Thirsty Leech"

I really, really dislike you right now.
You are the kind of annoying insect
that has the whole world at its disposal
yet seeks the company
Resting noticeably upon my earlobe
buzzing by frequently enough where i want to swat you
just for the hell of it. Good for you, you fly by so quick-

I really, really dislike you right now.
upon comparison, you are the metaphor of a walking
hemorrhoid, piles and piles of nothingness and blood vessels of mass
hidden under denim jeans and shitty underwear-you know,
a pain in the ass. I mean...I really, really dislike you right now.
Upon careful reflection, you are comparable to a big heaping serving
of hot liver. You smell when I cook you up even in my finest China
and make my tastebuds activate in a way that does not satiate.

As a matter of fact, you are an insect-a leech. Blood thirsty and hungry
sucking the very life of me, stealing the form of any other parasitic
exoskeleton, where your inner definitions are proudly displayed. Because
just as a wolf has glaring teeth and wear sheep's clothing, that cuddly
bullshit lasts as long as your inner loathing.
How presumptuous to believe
that your specific company loves misery. The kind where Stephen King is put
to shame, you have no one except self to blame, and in the end you define yourself
as a lame. Not the lame which cannot find a date on a Saturday evening or work
on a Labor Day-but the kind of person which paralyzes himself in every imaginable way.

I really, really do not like you right now. Do you not know that you are your
worst enemy? You fight others as if this war is dependent upon yourself
as the idiotic General-yet you cannot even win a small victory.
Even as you leave the treadmarks on back  and you believe that I am not foolish to react-
please do not make and ass out of u and me. Because you assume wrong, my love-
and I enjoy not having your company.


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