My mom thinks I'm beautiful. It's true, I'm looking pretty spiffy now. But not in this picture, oh boy. It was taken my last day inside. You know what it's like? Like you're alone. The walls and floor are cold. There's terrible sounds, all echoing at once. And you get so scared, you turn hollow inside. So hollow, you can feel your blood slowly stopping. It's kind of a buzzing sensation.
This is me the day after I got out. I think I must be handsome. All the voices sound happy like the ones that took home all the pretty furbabies in the pound. I wonder why they call it pound? Maybe they sell off all the dead bodies by the pound. Just a thought.
This is me listening to my CD's. I'm starting to have favorites.
No comments:
Post a Comment