Go in and make it pretty like you do.
Smooth the gravel into satin
like you do.
Just let me know when it’s done
so I can take off my shoes.
No, don’t tell me about your cuts and bruises,
how impossible it is,
what you will have to sacrifice.
I don’t want to hear it.
You figured out how to turn your tail to legs.
You figured out how to turn flowers into killers.
Do this for me and don’t complain.
Two things I ask of the master of adaptation,
two things I require:
Make this war palatable,
and make my sister love me.
A/N: Inspired by the Italian graphic novel series that I love so much. (W.I.T.C.H.)