Why do my friend's boyfriends have to keep overdosing on dilaudid and booze? Fate is not only cruel but a composer of demented nursery rhymes.

Pet

Petable, so petable, it rubs me the wrong way. And don't mix lit w recovery. Stitch together a batch of bitches, and litbitch, complain artfully. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.

You can pet me, I won't bite. You know that. I'm only a pet. Never anything more. Why don't you caress me? I'm not picky. I can barely remember the feeling. But no, okay, pet, cause I'm petable, adorable, in the way I'd rather not be. Not that I mind, but. I want more, I guess. Not biding time, I'm wasting it. Clock's ticking in this life drama.

But nevermind.

Either words have meaning, or they don't.