He's a dark man.
He's an evil man.
He's the one who does this to me.
He's ugly but beautiful at the same time, with his face always turned up in a sneer. He looks at me with a hunger in his eyes. His eyes are intimidating. They are a coold icy blue, and they see right through me. They make me feel pathetic.
Worthless.
He has long locks of black hair that he keeps over his face.
But I can still see his eyes.
He wears fingerless gloves, that contrast so perfectly with his porcelain skin.
His beauty mocks my own ugliness.
He is stong, and I can tell. His black tight fitting shirt shows off his muscles. I watch them as he flexes them, knowing he can take me out with one punch.
I never get to see his lower half. But I see him all too much.
He likes to remind me how
stupid
ugly
dumb
worthless
useless
pathetic
fat and horrible I am. He likes to torture me, from the inside out. He likes to make me squrim. He's a sick, twisted soul.
The hardest part is I can never get rid of him.
He's always around, because he's there when I look in the mirror.
