Guessing is Hereditary

So I guess the garbage

Isn’t going out tonight?

She asks

Or would have, if it were a question.

 

I guess I’m the only one around here

Who knows how to wash a dish?

She sighs

As if she actually thought

That was a polite way

To ask for a favor.

 

I guess you’re not as smart

As they keep telling me

If you can’t figure out

How to use

A fucking

Vacuum?

She seeths

 

Somehow missing the way

The silence -

After -

Settles heavily over the layer

Of dust she wanted gone.

 

She never stopped guessing,

So I started.

 

I guess if you wanted

Everything to always go your way

You should have thought twice

Before getting knocked up.

 

I stopped guessing

Out loud.

 
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