Miss Apple Dumpling…

Excuses are lame.  I’ll man up, figuratively and metaphorically while I can.  Moving forward, let’s consider ourselves “Team AK.”  Let my dreams being confusing to me, go.  I love instructions.  I dream of wild flowers, fields of bliss, hot suns and us eating Hershey’s Kisses at a picnic. 
Thin layers of jam on my toast taste good to me.  Understanding  that bee stings sting, might come in handy when spoon feeding me yogurt into my mouth.  I can’t wait to nap in the warm sun, hun.  I’ll run laps around the lake.
We’ll have fun.  I am more ready than I’ve ever been to validate my parking and pull out of tangled messes.  Let’s go for it this morning.  My sweat sesh will include lat work, bicep and tricep work, persevering and dripping in salty sweet sweat, ok?

I’m done ringing out moist head towelettes.  Call in the homie.  I gotta focus and flex like Hercules, not Dexter.  Strawberry cream lip balm will have me singing psalms.  That charm you speak so highly of is called love where I’m from.

I read and replay every recorded late night conversation we’ve ever had in my head like it’s a fad.  Call me a tadpole growing legs to get my foot in the door.  I get my chores done and crossed off the list.  Telling me to relax and breathe through conversation storms helps me.  1.  2.  3, 4, 5 , 6 seems to stick.  Boys being girls is common, for misses these days, get out of my way.  F#ck luck

– Kylekeech

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