She has been left jaded and thirsty for more – both of these singular things flourishing together, where were they when she needed to be connected by love though?

And she wears her favoured pin-striped attire, wanting for something which simply suggests a piece of her favourite resilience again – so very strong yet inordinately extraordinary yet wrapped in gold diamonds and still feeling this way

To remain starry-eyed and recklessly ready for more of these emotive reasonings to resolutely reoccur

Dry eyes yet forever lost and bruised and undeniably battered, if only her dutiful ghosts would take it upon their better selves to leave her completely alone – seems they’ve been tearing her body apart while she takes the lesser pieces and try to fabricate it back to happenstance

She won’t, never could, perhaps that she should have done from way, way back when

She was another person altogether – the same girl with the pressings, the enviable pressings which told them all to leave her the hell alone

The kind who did not let any of the things that bother the other paralysed person bother her not one bit in her whole entire universe anymore

She’s been rolling and smoking rhododendron cigarettes whilst watching the brave people take seed for themselves

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