fawnspawn

The woods are stirring this evening, right around the time the sun sets. It’s rather disturbing. A brown rabbit pokes its head up form under the ground, its white nose wiggling against the air, right next to a fox, sitting dormant, its undivided attention splayed forward.  “Our woods are diminishing,” notes a figure with white hair, draped over its pale collarbone, all way down to its throne. One arm is draped behind the throne, and its other hand is used as a resting spot for the figure’s chin. From the way her red lips minimally move, following the somberness of her face devoid of wrinkles, one would suggest boredo

I worry that I sound arrogant sometimes sometimes I try so hard to help other people,  to help clean up messes that I feel like i have to act strong it fails I am not strong; I am a train wreck, and i wonder how much it shows in my mannerisms and how much i pretend. and how strange I sound when I try to be strong for others with my endless hearts and smiley faces and my endless kind words. I don’t have so much love in my heart to be a pouring fountain sometimes i’ll just have to receive, receive, and receive, enough love, without feeling like i’ll have to give back a million love letters in thanks and make a million