I Write, I Write, I Write

Elouise could hardly breath in the corset she was being strapped into.

In my heart is a girl who

Waltzes to the beat

Of the thrum, who

Surrounds herself with millions

Of fairly lights that

Twinkle with the stars, and

Our world is filled with such

Delicate things, such

Beautiful little lights we

Find glittering in our eyes and

Try to tuck