I needed to kill a frog
to keep a car running
But then the frog started moving
when I thought that it was dead
It started struggling for life
Even though I thought it was dead
All of its skin was ripped off from its head
I held it in the cloth of my shirt
I hoped it was dead but it kept struggling to come out
I put the frogs head into a tiny puddle of water in the asphalt
All of its skin had been worn off from its face and it was crying and screaming in pain. The frog's head was only the size of my thumb.
I looked for a place where there was water and it was a spot in the pavement, a tiny puddle the size of my thumb.
I took the frog from the folds of my flannel shirt and put it in the tiny puddle so it could get a drink. When the frog took a drink from the tiny puddle it spit blood from its eyes.
And then the frog cried as streams of blood shot out of its eyes. The water ran red with blood. And the frog screamed and cried. All of the frog's skin had been worn away and it had not had a drink of water for weeks. And the skinless, faceless frog cried and cried and cried to me for water. I held the frog in the water and it drank.
Then I cried.