a/n: one element that I really enjoy about this piece is the slang. The dialect is not to be annoying and incorrect, it's just the way that I talk... & I think that is an important part of this piece.

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going out of my fucking brain crazy, i can't believe
i stayed cool when we passed the cop car
with a suitcase of booze on the backseat, guarded
by a bag of ice, & that i kept it under control standing around
the fire, yet

now i get home & i'm twigging out bad, like
i can't sit still, i'm losing my mind &

i think i'm pregnant

but i can't tell "daddy," cuz he's
in love with some other slut, & he's probably banging her
right now. so i'm sitting here, feeling like shit,
wondering

what the hell do i do now(?)

& contemplating the future. do i tell him? do i let him live on
in protective ignorance, unbeknownst to him that
thirteen weeks & five days ago
we conceived a miracle? or do i shatter his world, & tell him
that he's going to be a daddy, & that
i'm going to kill myself
if he doesn't fucking do the deed for me?