I have a girl crush. She's still the new girl, and I like that about her. She's not insular Westbury - ness.
Poor thing has fallen into something, and alas it's making her the outcast which is sad, as when exactly the same situation happened with some others earlier in the year public opinion didn't turn against them. I don't care to be honest. If it makes them happy and that's what they choose then we just have to live it. They aren't doing anything worong, if they're doing anything at all, which some how I don't think they are.
She's lovely to me. She writes me scraps of poems on paper and hides them in pigeon holes. I knit for her, and we dance and sing and skip. It's like have someone to channel your expression, and that's why. I want to knit you sweater.
Even though we've spent some lovely times with each other, I still feel like she'd and unread book to me. I want to really be her, friend and yet she seemssodistant, like she'd hiding a tiny bit of herself, that I can't reach. Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt.
Like a leaf
a study in neutral tones
and within her
An unwritten song
It's not a label
it's the way she is
orange smiles that light her
eyes laced with green
The handwriting a relic of a
far - away education
a place that she holds
but she is
Before she leaves
I touch her cheek
My first poem in an age.
Today has been well for want of a better word, weird.
I don't want to write about that.
Tomorrow I will plait and pin the hair of little expectant girls, waiting to journey into a n exam room. A pianist will be there, and they will dance to rich tones and an upright. with their be-ribboned hair and be-ribboned fett they'll stand. numbered, and smile nervously. "Good morning Miss Examiner" Then they'll dance and we'll see if the practice has paid off, if tears can earn marks, and performance is more than a smile.
And then i have a perty to go to.! lol