Uncertainty could probably kill you if it got half a chance. Drifting in the not-knowing, poison or elixir, it’s all in how/if you ingest it.
(So maybe we’re more blood than bone, I can’t even see the weather forecast without placing bets in my head,
ephemeral is an animal that could have wandered off by now, reminds me of the percentage of failing marriages, (god, so precarious, don’t make me feel like my
vows are a cliff to dangle from.) I want to be sure, too. I have not taken this lightly.
You have to MAKE your odds better than those of a fortune-teller,
be what you promised you would be, force your path towards the light.