I've been combing the butterflies out of my hair for years, but they just seem to keep coming back until I'm starting to think I'm missing something, or maybe it's just pointless like you said but then there's only one more layer of dust needed to coat over the gloss paint on my ceramic lips before we can touch again, because we both know anything sooner would be a nightmare gone wrong

so. please.

be patient while I sip the tea out of this same porcelain teacup you said didn't exist five years ago to the day and remember what I told you about counting or just tell the (what color was he again? I can't remember...) rabbit on your way out that I found his precious clock

and smashed it.