samsamsays
I know not one respectable human being. For in being a human being, we forge our rights to be anything but awful.
You place a postage stamp on the designated area and your mail will go care free. However, you decide for some reason to be rebellious and stick the stamp on the opposite side, or two inches too low, and it's an automatic return to sender. No if's and's or but's about it, mister. Conformity at it's finest, if you ask me.
Believer. They say, I'll make a believer out of you, but I'd never believe her. She's a liar, a dirty down-right stinkin' liar. She makes believe of everything she does. She doesn't think in the real world, she thinks in her dreams, and she doesn't live like you and I - oh no - she lives much different; she lives much further away. She's a believe, and so she lives in a fairytale land so lost and forgotten that nobody can even notice she's gone.
Willow was my grandmother's name. She used to sleep with her head under the covers. I always wondered about her. I wondered what was under there. Where there was. I knew she was an escapist, because I saw the distant glaze in her eyes when she would slip off into worlds unknown to you or I. I miss my grandmother. My biggest regret is never learning her secret passage to the other world.
Her teeth stare back at me. Blinding me despite their lack of whiteness. She is a monster. She is baring her gnarly gnashing bits to show her strength, although she falls weak. She always falls weak. She is weak and brittle and it shows in her everything, especially her teeth. When strong points become weak. Teeth meet the gums. Bite me.