She has left-hand(a)(a) again - left me with a taste for her skin. left open sores from forgotten wounds that are silently buried with in. I sit, wait, and anticipate a friendly hello or auf wiedersehen save instead I stick myself wondering hence? On that note I shall reflect and envision moments of fit out lying on the floor, for my lust filled heart put nail do nothing much then foray you with my eyes. Doesnt it hurt, she did plead as she scurries, distributing neglects weight. Alone now, I agree and I dictate, twinge is all I know how to feel and the more I get the less that its real. This sick, twisted man I am has sold his soul, abused his health, and lost his mind. With nothing left he lives through: inebriation, desire, and empty lies. Writted by Eric Dick June 6, 2004.
If you beseech to collision me feel free: aim: xnotsuohx yahoo: xiwbx icq: 16973003 electronic mail: ebdick@gawab.com This can be turned into a nice diddle story for a creative piece of writing class, but right now this is just viewed as a diary entry. If you want to get a full essay, social auberge it on our website:
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