Ophelia
we're just two ghosts
swimming in a glass half empty
swimming in a glass half empty
Ophelia keeps grinding until it becomes something more akin to a paste, content to work at it until told to stop. It means they can’t wave away the backpedaling, so instead they work to express forgiveness with their expression. “I don’t mind. My parents were god-fearing zealots. We were rarely allowed to leave the farm, and did all of our schooling independently. They were incredibly paranoid, and cruel. But they are dead now, and I have a new family,” they reassure, oddly cheerful and unbothered.
At the gesture, Ophelia sets down the pestle and tips the ground herbs into the mixture, ensuring as much is transferred as possible with a few swipes of their fingers in the bowl to coax out any clinging remnants. “I was curious if we could tie stones to our feet to walk on the ocean floor since we do not need to breathe, I’d like to go back to try it out.” The details of the experiment are vague, nebulous future things to contend with, but Ophelia doesn’t mind that. Planning is not something they care much about.
At the gesture, Ophelia sets down the pestle and tips the ground herbs into the mixture, ensuring as much is transferred as possible with a few swipes of their fingers in the bowl to coax out any clinging remnants. “I was curious if we could tie stones to our feet to walk on the ocean floor since we do not need to breathe, I’d like to go back to try it out.” The details of the experiment are vague, nebulous future things to contend with, but Ophelia doesn’t mind that. Planning is not something they care much about.
trying vainly to forget
the pain that came with heartbeats
the pain that came with heartbeats
