{ 光 } ━ 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝟣𝟩𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 ( fin )

♛: make me a willow cabin

Butterflies slip through the cracks of the facade

 Slumping shoulders somber from hurt and

want.

Pensive of the thought that he is only

something borrowed

and prays for the debt of her heart

repaid.

For to him, she is merely just a boy.

Lashes longer than usual,

face soft and guileless but still a boy.

But to the Countess, this boy is quite the number.

Heedlessly savoring the golden taste of youth

winking within the teeth of her bright smile

from his crooked allure.

 Like the wretched Actaeon,

her heart strings will surely tear to shreds looming

so close. Drowning two faces

at once as she so much allows.

 For she is not what she is or wants to be.

 Only a bitter girl in sweet love.

⚛︎⚛︎⚛︎

I wrote this as an assessment for school. It was incited from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night or What you Will from Viola's perspective. You probably have no idea what I'm talking about. So essentially, Viola is a girl dressed as a man and has fallen in love with her boss who thinks she's a man but is a woman. 

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