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it hurt my fist everytime I hit this kid’s cheek and teeth. And lets not even talk about how the concrete feels skidding against your face below zero. It’s the only kinky time I don’t skip out on myself. kinky I stand in there for every shot. The first fist in my stomach felt like it turned my guts inside out. I fell onto the curb and heard my keys clink kinky down the angle of the street. I licked my bloody spit on my hand and slapped the kid that just punched me in the gut then walked off to find my keys. This kid spun me around and for the second before he hit me, I laughed cause my spit and blood on his face looked like warpaint, then he hit me right dead center in the face. Like a hiccup in time, it all slows down after you get hit in the face- you cant feel another fucking thing on your body. Like the cartoon stars, this is what they are referring to. Only all I had was every single tear duct on my head working overtime to get enough buckets out. the tears freezing on my cheeks, the blood, salty and quickly working into a paste when mixed with the dirt I had sucked up when I hit the ground.
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