I asked a stranger to pour me into the ocean
so shards of me could fall in the peacock blue.
You should put it in writing.
but Amy asks “But who ya writing for?”
My hair floats above my head
my body hovers
where succubi don’t put up with false pretenses
and neither do I.
And then I was ****** under.
While you were thinking I didn’t have a clue
With no voice in my head, I shot into the sky
to find myself as an emerald.
Where I observe, but don’t change.