I just washed the last dish of the dinner party I was invited to. Little did I know, the Subaru I parked behind had more time than I did, and still I did the dishes. No one asked. So I unclench my ass in gratitude for my soft heart, though it hardens at the sight of selfishness.
I plucked each piece of lint from your sweater and made them into little animals. Made sure the floors doth creak under your sneaking, and still you conspire on my callused back. I made you too many snacks. Nobody asked me to do that. I never asked for a helping hand, in assumption that service was in your plan, too.
It seems my needs fall on busy ears when I dare be strong enough to admit weakness. You’ll be a friend next week and I’ll believe it when you wash the dishes. If I’m bold enough to tell you I’ve had enough of one handed exertion, I know you’ll hype me up to know that I can use both, instead of offering your own. Again. And if that’s frustrating for me, please don’t tell me to stop keeping tally, when your diddly daddlying has granted you no tallies at all. It’s kinda hard not to keep count, when I was only been able to count on you that one time in the past 9 lives.
kaledo-art
stormborns
pixelskylines
titsay
areudirty
gummygunk
tangentwithtanner
blakekathryn
