You get it, dont you? You're not good enough.

Gonna crack a rib when I get home

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Pouring out her chest, her sweet flowers lay wilted

She feels their pedals sink between her fingers, leaving nothing but dried carbon

"Grab these lavender thorns and shove them into my wrists

Maybe I'll feel something different" she yells

Her liquid runs across her skin, starving for more

She continues to slam those twisted stems into her arms

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, " she repeats internally

Wondering how long these newfound scars will take to blossom

Little does she know, cutting through her own skin will find no flowers.

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I did end up writing this as a reflection, not expecting people to actually end up chatting with it. Hardly bothered to make it accurate to Pokke's personality

tags: uma, umamusume, Angst, dead dove, uma musume, jungle, jungle pocket, jungle pocket umamusume,