tagNon-Erotic PoetrySix Months Pregnant

Six Months Pregnant


Take this cross because something bad is about to go down. You show up with pink hair, thin, and ready to give birth. Is that your friend in there? She's six months pregnant. Really? She sat on an inflatable bed chatting with her husband in another country. You have the same last name as the hummus I like. His mother was the Joker and father was absent. He said, get me those pills. I don't care how you do it. She decided that going to Catholic church was better, then she died her hair brown again and I was confused. I trembled when I said, you have to go. I can't have a distraction on top of the distractions that are working for me right now. She flattened the bed and cried that he had killed her cat. I didn't know you had a cat. Before we split for goodsies she said, he's coming! I'll work and he'll come and be with me, with no mother. She and Abby met toe to toe and delicate nose to nose expecting me to take them both to Chicago.

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