All we do is prove to some outside force that we exist
Here we are. Visit us.
We’ll greet you with guns and fear.
But what if they don’t exist?
Maybe we’re alone.
Those small things on Mars, were just that. Small.
So forgive me if I don’t clap for the tallest storey on your creation.
A creation made by a creation.
Because reductively we’re just mould on a science project.
– Little Ginge x
How long is my piece of string?
Will I see the sights I long for?
Or will I regret everything?
Always wishing I’d done more.
– Little Ginge x
Do you ever wonder what’s the point?
Why am I trying to please people?
Following everyone else’s patterns?
Fall in love.
Who determines who goes with who?
Do soul-mates really exist?
Or do we grow to love the one we’re with?
Stockholm syndrome.
Do you ever wish you could imprison me?
Lock me in the stare of those beautiful eyes?
Shackle me to your bed?
Force me to fall in love.
Did you know there’s no need?
I’m already a rabbit caught in headlights?
My cuffs are the words you ensnared me with?
I still don’t know why I love you.
But I do.
– Little Ginge x
Gingers Appellations 