AmbitiousAntics!

dear baby’s daddy’s,
momma’s almost ex-husband’s,
girlfriend… yeah, no thanks.

fuck complications.
i’ll tanning lotion your ass,
but damn. dump his ass.

i’m charming and sweet,
my conversation will beat
his shit down to peat.

the corners messy,
with all the angles askew.
it’s ridiculous.

it’s claustrophobia,
it’s a confidence problem,
it’s time in my head.

they say it’s contempt,
familiarity breeds.
i think i agree.

done before started.
yes, they’re lands left uncharted,
you don’t force the hand?

“i’ll never love you,”
she said vicariously,
“since they won’t approve”

next she said five words,
“don’t worry bout the curtain.”
nor the finish line.

delicious disease
you’ll never replace all these
arepas and cheese

cleaning the dishes
will be less bore and less chore
when you’re not around

where did you go to?
they may love you like i did,
tomorrow replaced.

working and working,
supporting our habits, but
that’s just what we do.

it’s the unseen weight,
from our shoulders up that’ll
break our backs in two.

it’s that sweat and strain
that I take in vain, which will
bring no peace to me.

girls and violins,
pony tails, skirts, and flamed lips
yes, i know it’s trite.

dear amy crossfoot,
you’re twisting existential
naked. to a pulp.

standing on your mouth
regretting every moment,
rainbows on the floor.

once, twice, three times done.
she counted my excuses.
they were all but gone.

looking at herself.
once, twice, three times the lady.
she found herself stuck.

lies in suspension.
you’ll find their fines in the like.
once, twice, third, you’re gone.