a pixie dyed here

I wish I felt better.

The words I really want to say would come out right.

It would be easy to reach across the sea of our differences and meet on a perfect island if only I felt better right now.

But don't worry.

Days like this come and go.

This is an off day and I don't mean to be like this. I'm not like this when I feel better.

And maybe, for the better, until I'm better at this, you should find better company.

It's not worth ruining you too.

I don't care about being pretty to attract boys or agencies or friends that only text to go drink. All I want is for some diaphanous elf looking Cara or Lacy to cross paths with me in a cafe or Trader Joe's or something and become my best friend so we can swap clothes, read the same dark fantasy books together, protect each other from psychos when we go out to the movies after midnight, drink fancy elderberry sparkling wine in my house, and not really talk to any other people, just being mentally screwed up together and healing together too.

I've been through enough drama in life and don't really care about a stereotypical future anymore. I just want to watch true crime with a thin-twin. Just us in cozy sweatshirts, so comfortable in our skins we can do stupid things like play fight if we're bored. Do each other's hair. I dunno. Relive the type of girlhood that slipped through my fingers because I spent my youth being toxic and sensitive at the same time.