I hack

And I press.

I make

Such a mess.

 

I can feel what I used to be:

Something young, running wild and free.

And one by one they fall.

She whispers as I crawl:

 

“My darling, please don’t cry.

You’re not the only one

Whose forgot how to fly.

But now’s not the time for fun.”

Straight toward her heart, I’m about to run.

Made from her art, I’m about to run.

 

I beg and plead,

For one little break.

I give it all

All while you take.

But as they fall,

I must say this one thing:

 

Bring it out.

Show me what you’ve got, now!

And we’ll just see

Who’s the better one.

 

Oh.

This is actually pretty good.

I’m impressed!

 

What?

What do you mean I have detention now?

What do you mean I’m exaggerating?

 

Fine, I’ll go.

But I promise you this:

I’m not done yet.