“I wanna win.” Scrapping with “I wanna die.”
Race neck & neck for hold over my mind’s eye.
On the cusp of rising & likely to fall;
Swept in moments unmitigated by gall.
My annoyance & Love aren’t the same tallies.
Frustration can’t make my hope dilly-dally.
Hope is ahead; though, emotionally stuck.
Just one more day off, please; excused for the muck.
Step one’s a bitch, wherein, I drag myself out.
Step two: scrape the bulk off & get the fuck out.
Step three: stiff drink & hot bath, in that order.
“I wanna win” is in lead by a quarter.
L.B.Stowe 