Certainly Uncertain

You know when butter is burnt Black and rancid Or when the dog doesn’t like you, Fangs poised, growling, bloodshot eye whites, tiny pupils fixated on your slightest tremble. Hate and disrespect are easy. Love is Hard. She knew I was calling, why didn’t she answer, why doesn’t she call back, she says she loves me…
This entry was posted in Daily Journal. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>