Poetry With Hart

Characters:

Iggy = “Mary Poppins Punk”

CC = “Business Goth”

Melody = “Hippie Priestess Vibes”

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(See post labeled “About Last Night” for a more detailed look at character descriptions)

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Setting = The same kitchen bistro table. Cc is seated, rubbing her temples. Melody is brewing tea/a tea like concoction. Iggy is sitting/standing/pacing on top of the counters.

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Melody: Can’t sleep?

Iggy: I upset him again.

Melody: A blessing in disguise.

Cc: What did you do this time?

Iggy: Tagged him a bit overmuch.

Cc: Iggy, we talked about this.

Iggy: It wasn’t for me this time! That crush is long since dead. Smashed bug on the windshield of regret.

Melody: I’m saving that metaphor for later.

Iggy: It was to let him know that he was ignoring like a half his community. I dunno why, but it annoyed the living piss outta me.  I was trying to be nice dammit!

Cc: What happened to my perfectly reasonable, nice and concise comment that summed all of that up?

Iggy: Oh we deleted that. It seemed too much.

Cc: And … like eight tags in a row isn’t?

Iggy: … Okay you may have a point.

Cc: Still though, and I might be a cunt for saying it, but hear me out….

Iggy: I love the word cunt! Cunty cunty cunt cunt cunt. *starts dancing on the counter*

Melody: That’s prolly not an appropriate word here. Please, refrain from saying it, at least where people may hear you.

Cc: My apologies. What I mean to say is, he didn’t want to discuss it. Didn’t leave room for other people’s thoughts. He’s only after surface level engagement and fuckin flattery. We’re building something different and fundamentally incompatible with that egocentric worldview. Plus it was only a matter of time. He had Melody here freaking the fuck out. The next prompt would be too personal. The next comment would be too deep. The next tag an auto block without direct communication.  Honestly, you probably did us a small favor.

Melody: Danke schön.

Cc: Plus, while he may be passionate and compassionate at heart, he really can be an incredibly dense, intense, insensitive icy asshole with the ego to match. He’s got an icicle shoved so far up his ass I’m surprised it’s not breaking teeth on its way out the other side —

Melody: CC, calmness. Have a cuppa.

*hands CC a cup of tea in a dark simple mug, that smells like cinnamon and cayenne peppers mated resulting in this tea*

Iggy: Indie boho haircut bitch. Probibaly squeezes toothpaste from the middle of the tube.

Melody: And Iggy, here’s a cuppa for you.

*hands Iggy a cup of tea in a bright orange mug with Tigger on the side of it, that smells like chamomile drowned in enough honey to sink a ship*

Cc: … still love his poetry though

Iggy: Abso-fuckabley-fuckin-lutely.

Melody: Ich stimme dir zu.

Cc: We are not going to tell him that though.

Iggy: Fuck-a-ding-fuckity no. I burned that bridge too well. I did tit fuckingly good this time.

*Iggy stops dancing and drinking her tea to play with her zippo lighter*

Melody: Yeah… thanks for that.

*Melody stays silent a moment, sipping her simple cup of chamomile tea with just a splash of milk in a plain mug with happy, uplifting sayings scrawled along the sides. With effort, she muses aside to herself*

Melody: Still … I wish I could apologize for taking up too much space and time… Suppose there’s nothing left, though, but to move on… And to keep care over the circle we have…