Designer: Manikka
Resources: 1 2 3

The way people talk, is going to reduce this to ruins. I'd say they were clueless, but I know they're just insincere. They aren't ignorant, just a little too dense. I'm screaming "Silence!" behind these lips stitched up and forced into a curl. I'll retreat into those bits kept in desk drawers and scribbles.

For the record, I'm -..okay?
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My eyes flash bright green, on the scene, and I look them up and down. My head can't help but scream that those flirts will never be enough for you. Maybe in my head, I'm hoping I'll never have to sigh and say "Fine, that'll do." My lips are tight and sworn to secrecy (let's keep the alcohol away from this sinking ship) because I've got no right to win and all I can do is single you out in the crowd.

My eyes dart back and forth, as the beats fall into place on my hips and the stiffness falters right when I find you. When the lights cascade, all I can do to keep from smiling way too wide is try not to glance too long. The sound of that voice when I know those eyes are on the red, black, white keeps my eyes from flashing bright green; that laugh that told me you were looking when I tried to make you.

Thank you for the moments you'll never know you gave me (:
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You've got to wipe that silly blush off your face..let's not be too obvious, now. Why can't you seem to remember that one little resolution? -right, right, because this one's different (just like all the others were, at first)
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She called me a rubix cube; probably for good reason. Perhaps the name isn't even enough. There are certain rules to follow in cracking the code..but these twists and turns that have become tried-and-tested solutions will not guarantee anything with someone whose indecision goes beyond colors and shapes -right into sparks and fireworks and catches. Watch out for "I think"s and "maybe this is"s: never confuse "I might" for "I do"s..and be cautious when you deal with me at my weakest: when I refuse those damn chasers. Because then..then, you -and anyone else who happens to conveniently be beside me, can fool yourself into believing the hilarious lie that I am yours. Because then..then, and only then, perhaps I might be yours. In all drunken fun-loving hilarity, I might be yours. But sober, I am no one else's but the world's..until that "palms sweating, heart racing, butterflies in my stomach, omg does my hair look okay?" feeling comes back to haunt and resign me to finally belong to my own World, the way I'm sure I did, once upon a time.
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