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Ode to Manic Pixie Dream Girl

By @loveley


Manic pixie dream girl

Crawling through his window

Barefoot, probably

Flowers in your hair

Wild thing

Dancing in the rain again?

A child who never grew up

Yet wise beyond your years

Are you human?

Nobody knows for sure

But I do

I know who you are

You’re not a girl

You’re a collage

Stained glass window, newspaper and glue

A mess

Girls who are messes are rare

But messy girls aren’t

That’s how you exist, manic pixie dream girl

A collection of quirks

Endearments an artist has loved in their life

You smell of sugary lemon and spring

Just like his sister used to

The paint on your clothes?

His old lover was an artist

Who drew sunsets

You make up stories for every star in the sky

Just like his father did

Buy charms for luck, plants for happiness

And swear that they work

His mother did that too

Go to page fifty-three of a book when you start it

Read, then begin

(From an overheard conversation at the library)

Nap in the sunlight on the porch

His stray cat was there last week, missing half an ear

He leaves her milk and food

Manic pixie dream girl, I know who you are

You are everyone

just waiting for an artist to see us

And write us into his story

A mess he’ll let us share

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