there was the portrait that Oscar Wilde told me I would find. when he was found out. Found in Dorian Gray. when you don't feel the best, surely the best doesn't come out. I agree, but only half-hearted. It's a weak effort on my half, since I pull on the wishbone from last years turkey. The skin is tough and hard to jab my teeth through as I feel wicked and exposed. Mostly weak from so hard. I barely felt the bite. I didn't know how to open my eyes so I kept them shut. When I found out you had plagiarized so well I was amused. I walked up the driveway the same way. I knew you wouldn't set foot in the doorway. as long as it was easy for you. that you made up on your very own. i dont worry about you following me since the charade was so transparent. I did have to "show my work." and being "G" and all too! What a shock to my system. it was you not showing "your work." Shit. 50 hours. That's nothing. Shit. that's normal. I have to drive an hour! shit. I have to listen to your mouth, but no one pity's me! shit. can you make more money? can you shut your trap? no.
the apostrophe's were all wrong. Written in red pen just for pomp and circumstance. when i couldn't do any more to please you, you had already moved on. I couldn't get past it. But if the shoe were on the other foot, I guess you couldn't get over it either. we have our jobs. we have our wrought hands. we have our divine interventions. we barely bat an eyelash. and its yours and its mine. I had hand made all these. it was easy to wait. it was a struggle to wait. i had not counted all my eggs. i didn't even know they could hatch. i tried not to let that burr irritate me. so I escaped. unscathed. wild abandon. rare gem.