Edit: After reading through some of the other cleaves posted (which I couldn't see before because I posted this from my phone), I realized that I was doing this entirely wrong. I apologize for my failed cleaves, and I will try to do better in the future. T.T
Her mind
She was in a desert
where there was nothing.
No cacti, no oasis, no end,
not even a scorpion to sting at her feet.
There was sand,
but after hours of walking,
hours of it scalding her souls
that too was reduced to nothing.
Baren. Parched. Even her frustrated tears
did nothing to quench it.
where there was nothing.
No cacti, no oasis, no end,
not even a scorpion to sting at her feet.
There was sand,
but after hours of walking,
hours of it scalding her souls
that too was reduced to nothing.
Baren. Parched. Even her frustrated tears
did nothing to quench it.
It was raining watermelons,
baby kangaroos and munchkins,
and small creatures--never before seen
from the bottom of the sea
with headlights on their eyelashes.
Too much, too fast!
Her mind overflowed
in a flood of multicolored paint
scrawling with reckless abandon a rough imitation of her flood.
baby kangaroos and munchkins,
and small creatures--never before seen
from the bottom of the sea
with headlights on their eyelashes.
Too much, too fast!
Her mind overflowed
in a flood of multicolored paint
scrawling with reckless abandon a rough imitation of her flood.
Her mind was by nature a cyclic beast.
There was no mean that it strove to attain
nor any certain predictability.
She found there was no use pondering it.
Instead, she opted to simply let her mind
borrow her hands when it had something in it.
There was no mean that it strove to attain
nor any certain predictability.
She found there was no use pondering it.
Instead, she opted to simply let her mind
borrow her hands when it had something in it.
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