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Bletherskite. There, I’ve said it. You are speaking nonsense. And when you raise your hand that way, I’m done. “This is me standing up for myself,” I said, letting you read the last of how I felt.

No nonsense for me. I am a sensible sensibility. I already lived out the tale of the latter in my young naivety, and I will never live out the tale of the former. Yes, I have terrible manners. I do not finish some talks. I’ve heard enough nonsense to last me a lifetime. You know that.

Stitch me up in scarlet red, covered in flags. Stitch up the last of the sailcloth with our similarities that you once loved and then hated. “You’re never going to find that perfect girl,” I told you, “If you date another girl, you’ll just run into the same issues.” Ah well, throw the corpse overboard and let’s be done.

Here’s your red card back with its untruths. Changing your mind only takes a flick of time and a glimpse at reality. I’m sure, I’m sure, that feelings change. Better sooner than later to fade in eyesight. Ah well, a merry chase it was, your words spurring it on. I pluck them from the air and make a fine tune. Bletherskite.

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