Dirt Beneath My Feet


I guess you’re just hanging out on the floor like a piece of dirt, huh? It’s not like I noticed or care. I just walk into the room and sit down to talk on the phone. My feet happen to be hovering right over your insignificant little body. I bounce them over you for a bit, then take off my slippers and reveal my huge soles. Are you still down there? I’m not listening. Your presence won’t keep me from putting my feet where I want them to be even if they smash you in the process. It also won’t keep me from picking my wedgie or continuing my conversation. I bet you’re getting a great view from down there. you pathetic little perv. We will not be talking about it …or anything, for that matter.


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