Post by Marceline on Mar 19, 2012 16:33:59 GMT -5
I sat in the forest leaning on a tree. My legs were splayed out next to me and in my hands was an electric red guitar. A tiny griffin was spinning around my head quietly, although I never noticed. My hands went over the chords making a sound. As I started to play I sang out loud, mainly because I was in the middle of the forest and nobody would here me..
Sorry I don't treat you like a goddess. Is that what you want me to do? Sorry I don't treat you like your perfect, like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I'm not made of sugar. Am I not sweet enough for you? Is that why you always avoid me? That must be such an inconvenience to you. Well, I'm just your problem. I'm just your problem. It's like i'm not even a person. Am I? I'm just your problem. Well, I shouldn't have to justify what I do. I shouldn't have to prove anything to you. I'm sorry that I exist, I forgot what landed me on your black list. But I shouldn't have to be the one that makes up with you. So why do I want to? Why do I want too. . . Marceline.... A voice whispered. to... too ...too... bury you in the ground I whispered as a strange darkness seeped into my head. I shook it out and looked around, mainly freak out. I hugged my bat wing red guitar and looked around. "Storm, big," I commanded and my griffin/dog grew the size of a lion. He roared loudly letting anything in the forest to know to watch out. As he guarded me by the tree I started to sing softly and play my guitar again.... Ladadadada I'm gonna bury in the ground, ladadadada I'm gonna bury you with my sound, I'm gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face.... I sang feeling safe..
Sorry I don't treat you like a goddess. Is that what you want me to do? Sorry I don't treat you like your perfect, like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I'm not made of sugar. Am I not sweet enough for you? Is that why you always avoid me? That must be such an inconvenience to you. Well, I'm just your problem. I'm just your problem. It's like i'm not even a person. Am I? I'm just your problem. Well, I shouldn't have to justify what I do. I shouldn't have to prove anything to you. I'm sorry that I exist, I forgot what landed me on your black list. But I shouldn't have to be the one that makes up with you. So why do I want to? Why do I want too. . . Marceline.... A voice whispered. to... too ...too... bury you in the ground I whispered as a strange darkness seeped into my head. I shook it out and looked around, mainly freak out. I hugged my bat wing red guitar and looked around. "Storm, big," I commanded and my griffin/dog grew the size of a lion. He roared loudly letting anything in the forest to know to watch out. As he guarded me by the tree I started to sing softly and play my guitar again.... Ladadadada I'm gonna bury in the ground, ladadadada I'm gonna bury you with my sound, I'm gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face.... I sang feeling safe..
