November 18th, 2009
I’m not entirely certain why I allow myself to feel this way when I speak with you.
Not even sure that I could explain precisely how I feel.
I am constantly overly-friendly to you. I am sweet and always helpful. I don’t ask you to do much for me– even though it is your job to help me in some–many– situations.
You jump down my throat. You speak to me condescendingly. And do I bite back? Nope. I cower.
I hate you for the way I feel when you’re around.
You are a cruel, calloused bitch who thinks that everyone must be stupid.
*sarcastically* You’re right. We’re all terribly stupid.
Cluck your tongue. That’s right, girl. Cluck away. Snap and throw your head back pompously.
And I? I take back all power I’ve ever given to you.
I don’t like to think that you’ve given up power to ANYBODY. Not you. Because, in MY mind, you are perfect.
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