sonnet I asked my old

I asked my old pal who worries worse
She framed in faith the facts to sound my fault
Stockstill I sat I stymied urge to bolt
She slid me prettified inside a hearse
She stood deus exmachina not a nurse
And her regard was glib and felt assault
Id snap to it Id juice up on the jolt
Empowered and pure Id bust my bastard curse
Id flubbed she fired and hed fed on it
I couldnt flame with fully open eyes
Manipulative actions angled lies
I was a waif to even broach that nit
She salivated while sad stuff Id say
And didnt hear me out then wait a day
Chorus say announce voice