I cut the potatoes in half then half again wondering why the text didn’t go through.
Maybe it’s because of my hurtful words towards you or maybe your phone isn’t connected to the wifi.
The message failed twice so take it as a sign and leave it be.
Just like the window that’s been left as is.
Sometimes I wonder is it love you’re looking for or just another warm place to place your head somewhere your truth hasn’t been yet.
Some days I sit and try to understand our one sided convent I made so I can take off my rain boots in this house.
But it never will make sense because I was to a warm place where your truth hasn’t been yet.
This feeling is good.
This feeling is bad.
This feeling somehow keeps me going.
The gravy is thickened and the meat has gone tender.
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