The fidget spinner creaks as it spins, going on and on as her fingers tip tap on the keyboard. The coffee that she plunked a peppermint in tastes strangely (and yet beautifully) like imagination. Heroes call and heroes fall inside her mind, defeating darkness and schoolwork at the same time. They skip on sidewalks, jump on beds, and eat cereal as their day goes by. She writes these heroes as they conquer, as they stand and spray Reddi-Wip into their mouths, as they lay through the night dreaming of sunsets and dewy grass and freedom.
A clock spins above her head.
Her shoes are too small but she wears them anyway; they remind her of too many things to let go, just yet.
Books are stacked on her desk and piled on her bed, probably five being read at a time.
Her sharpie scritches on a napkin, leaking through into a star-filled world and floating through dusty shades of chaos.
Night tints the sky, and she’s still awake, tip tapping on her keyboard again. A lone boy sits on her doc, sipping lemonade with sneakers swinging and blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.
Random lyrics are stuck to her brain and she sings them all day, most likely annoying everyone in the house.
She’s upside down in a candy cane universe, using shards of the red and white stripes to fight off stress monsters and be the hero she’s always wanted to be.
She is a writer.
A dreamer, a thinker, a watcher-
A girl who can’t get enough of the universe.