I wish I were a cabbage
The round ones, smooth and sturdy, all closed up... wrapped in themselves.
The ones that say: I won't give you a single one of my leaves... if you want a piece of me you'll have to slice me up.
But... I can't hold a pea in my mouth and I always speak my mind. How unwise... how useless! This is the wrong place to do it... I am surrounded by Pudic Mimosa plants.
You know Pudic Mimosas?
They pretend they are dying even when there is no real danger. They are such drama queens and oh the drama!
I have one on my balcony, she faints when a little breeze touches her or if you move her pot... she goes: aaaaah... and all her branches curve down.
Why call them pudic? That's not being pudic, that's being touchy!
Touchy Mimosa woods... that's where I live and since I live here I should be a cabbage, all curled up... besides it's unnecessary to show bits of your minds to people who don't know there are girls who can speak with no bad intentions, no sarcasm, no subtleties, no evil thinking. How can they believe such a girl exist if they live in a world where sincerity is as extint as a dinosaur?