i try to write you poems, but the words, they don't make sense
the hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense
i try to show emotion, but my eyes won't seem to wet
Sink or swim. That's what they tell you, as children, as cells, as mermaids, they tie anchors to your slippery sealskin and say, 'Now, drown, or: adapt,' and you must, mustn't you? You have to learn to swim, or else be eaten up by the ghosts.
⠀⠀
a thick wall of vines sprouts before her, and while it obscures her view — and probably the other’s — she uses this opportunity to sprint to the side.
“what is your problem?” she shouts, her mind going into overdrive, thinking of ways to get out of this situation.
⠀⠀
this ludicrous statement of his has her frowning, completely taken aback by such accusations. seeing how she would have no way to dodge him judging by his oncoming speed, she entrusts her vines to cover her.
【 𝕱𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇’𝐒 𝕾𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 】
ㅤ
〝 I ‘ m not the one to hold
grudges , but ; your
VINES IS RUINING MY
BEAUTY SLEEP . 〞
azure classmate charged
at full speed with clipping
twin blades , screaming
loudly atop lungs .
ㅤ
eyes of emerald flicker to the twin blades in her classmate’s hands before returning to his face. his presence is merely acknowledged with a minuscule skywards curve of her lips and a nod of her head.
perhaps he has a garden to tend to.