The girl is not green
But she’s got no clue
What they’re whispering about her.
She’s got no clue.
She’s never quite sure what to do,
With her hands,
In social situations.
She’s so sick of herself sometimes,
Leaves her stomach
Inside a bathroom stall.
A Girl I Know
Details later… If I’m still alive by January 10th. You see, my math final may have killed my wit, but I won’t lose my sense to dramatize.
I’ll take off my Christmas ornaments when I get the chance, too.