I don’t know why
you keep contact w/this guy.
Why you let him
breathe on you. Manipulate you.
Obstruct you.
Break you.
Why you let him
touch your body the way no one should.
He’s nothing.
Not even dirt. At least good things can grow from dirt. With him, you plant a
seed and his cancer immediately overtakes and infects you.
His tweaked out
pornomania might be enticing and hot for a good laugh or a quick erection, but
what more can he give you except a faceful of shit during his paranoid crack
sessions. Did I say shit? I meant a faceful of fist.
Look inside
yourself. I mean really look at the angels of your guard and tell me why
you wasted even 2 seconds on this waste of skin.
Why you didn’t
kill his fat ass when you had the chance.
You
should’ve . .
. ahhh forget it. You don’t
listen anyhow.
Victor Millan
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