I was tickled by ambition// a lonely hunger of missing indentions// seamless to silently trying to figure// the minimal decisions of who I am// and knowing I can’t ascend to the percussions// i wish it wasn’t// smelling connection when I’m tastefully hungry for success// the hard melodical temper of feeling death// when it translates to spaces of lies// that I hope you can’t believe// but we all know that spying is better than prying// then shutting lips to fully listen to the actual stories that created truthful responses// to costly summing the spaces that tremble between your legs and heart// that seem fair// the relation of it all raw and unbearable// so much being funny that we fail to see whats real// meaningful turning into jokes and viewing secrets meaning more than trauma// we are so healed// I am tickled by it all// though without my glasses// I’ve been missed before// and even more now// my ambition is comical to honesty// but it pulls from the bowels of me// caring like a pregnancy// cradled in the rib that births humilation// subduing me to speak from my heart// and move with my mind// how funny am I// to believe in a dream of creating more than me//

by:Shelbi Henny