Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Confessions Of A Self Aware Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Recharging over night,

I awake beside you,

with bright eyes,

slight sassy retorts,

when you ask me how I slept,

because we both know,

I probably didn’t.

I read tarot,

while you dress,

write poems,

while you cook breakfast,

and I never stop rotating

between a routine of smiling and pouting,

in a way that makes you wonder,

what I’m thinking

(I am probably thinking about the pancakes you have yet to finish.)

You ask me how I am,

and I am irresistibly indistinct,

but it doesn’t matter,

my boyfriend,

with the blue,

brooding heart,

because I am always here,

sort of smiling,

sort of pouting,

eyes glowing,

just for you.

I drop delirium onto your lips,

and like a shark,

beseeched by blood,

to make it feel loved,

you say “Yes.”

in a fever.

I make you a mixtape,

of Morrissey,

Rick Astley,

and solo Brian Wilson,

as I send you links to Airbnb’s,

in Tokyo,

Tripoli and Tunbridge Wells,

along with a copy of your birth chart,

and a song I wrote,

as you slept,

about our hearts going to the zoo,

to free the much harassed pandas.

These are just the things I do.

Sometimes,

people are just chaotic and curious,

and sometimes,

though they buzz around the world,

existing in an outlandish but inoffensive way,

like feverish,

excited fireflies,

they find themselves in a net,

and then they consider whether it would be wild,

to just be comfortable,

captured, cared for,

for a while.

Maybe I am an adventure,

a firefly,

an invention of your imagination,

and you love me,

because the stars you think you see,

are seldom in the skies that appear to you,

so this means something else to you,

than what I was expecting,

but maybe I am just your scarce sweetheart,

that you love with all your heart,

and we aren’t characters,

in a cautionary romantic comedy.

I am smiling,

I am pouting,

I am slowly going mad,

but swallowing my absconding sanity,

so as not to distract,

from the journey our director dictates you must take.

I am smiling,

I am pouting,

existing solely in the part of you,

that longs for some unusual adventure.

Plug me in at the wall,

kiss me goodnight,

my eyes will glow,

and glow.

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