Where do all of these things come from?
She is looking for a sign, to lead her in the right direction
Haunted by the successions of her brother
Of her dear old,
Mother swiftly lifting away
But can still admire her little sunray
Regrowth holds immaculate power that can pull any willing soul
She rinsed off her ripped skin,
Daddy’s little science girl- you should know that.
How those mediator cells react and interact to weave over a haunting memory.
Stupid girl- get your head into beakers and out of those books.
Relax. As she gets high off the smoke of her own flared ambitions. Her mind is like no other
She truly is fine, and she knows it
Rising to her own accomplishments
After almost being;
“She does not wear survivor on her arm for nothing”