Dressed in a Puma Tracksuit

As soon as I say something, it’s the end of the world.
What are you really mad about? We are out here
birthing people, running shit in a curse-filled tirade.
I would see her writing after work and before work,
battling at parties, making mogul moves. It’s almost
a shame, your own story. The possibilities double:
It takes two cobwebs on a Hollywood set, a war.


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