Three bitches

This is the tale of two bitches.

One would work all day, and the other would play on his guitar. The question is searching... The other's mantra and penchant for catty remarks. While the original bitch was extra crispy; like a bucket of fried chicken. The second would strum away like a space cadet. The original was wishing he'd be caught up.

While the second was high in the clouds.

Their friends were suffering from all the hatred between the bitches- that would last for hours. And hours and minutes and seconds before I wrote this. They made us swear to not talk to other. Like a child's conniption fit. What to do? These bitches are our friends. But their problem is more than meets the eye. The purest heart is worn on a sleeve and there's other factors at play like the sick and the elderly and money struggles and hurt feelings. The problem they are not bitches. They are just hurt and they lost their way. Now, what will the outcome be? I guess we must cut them out of our lives to contribute to the hurt, and malice spilling over like from like a pot of tea. The problem for me. But more like for them because bitchy is something of an itis everyone suffers from. Including me.