The sea was a deep mixture of soft hues that scathed her fingertips. It swished back and forth, soothing calluses that had engraved her soul with mordant whispers.
The snow was a shallow murmur of wistful dreams. It burned her spirit with waves of fever, exaggerating her heart until it piqued with forgiveness.
The stars were a multitude of forgotten wishes, each shooting spark pulsing with complexity. They brightened the sky but for a moment, before disappearing behind clouds dense with the hideous weeds of uncertainty.
The depth of her pond is shallow, vulgar and incomplete. She wishes on the star for the deep sea to freeze over with snow. Entwined they become, surging from the very elements that make up her heart.
She will stop waiting for someone to save her. She will save herself.
That is her resolution.
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