Semi-Daily Scribbles

Damn your fake tan and that white dress, too (the thing doesn't fit me and it looks worse on you.) Is this what our conversations have become? Insecurities are battering rams we use to knock down and bruise and negate one another. Three years of demolition and we can't come up with a plan. The harangue hasn't stopped (I won't give it up) and you've let the dandelions run riot in the garden of right and not wrong. Weeds ignore the insults hurled at them. That's not us. We are Right and Not Wrong and we know it all (enough to keep the divide widening every day.) This is how our garden grows.