SNAP! Went the lady.
Who weren’t no lady at all.
That bitch would scratch your eyes out.
Kick your feet out as you fall.
Then she’d yell at you.
Call you out.
Bitch would cry and holler and shout.
Complaints would gouge like hidden knives.
Guilt icing chocolate cake.
Pile on pity til the horse grunts.
Fillin’ up Hot Tears Lake.
Late night long texts.
Spittin them regrets.
Sounds like all bets
Are off.
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