The Attic (V) They eat clothes, moths

They eat clothes, moths — don’t they?
The mothballed Monarch Butterfly

Mothballs, that’s an old one
‘Mothballed’ — that’s so hack
sometimes people complain
that these sorts of sayings stick around

But I’m bringing this one back

Hey Paisley, ever fancied someone you know you shouldn’t… Hurts doesn’t it? But kind of a good hurt. – Amelia Pond

As Alice tasted something suitably different from her experiences with the short and the tall of her once beloved Wonderland, she couldn’t help but have a rather mad thought; it was then and there that poor Alice decided she really did not care for rabbits very much at all. Far too gamey, she thought, for her dear little friend.

Who ARE you, thought Alice, who suddenly found circumstances to be rather funny indeed. (Madness in Alice — Wunderlande)

Where dust wont gather
Watering it a little each day
It’s what this sort of plant needs
Anyway, who eats horses

They’re so played out
The tread is worn
Wings that are marked plenty
By the knowing of the understanding of flight

The butterfly flaps it’s wings
And chaos strikes
And chaos strikes
And madness stalks the night

—-
My feet remember the crawl,my elbows remember the inaugural flight
My toes may feel the sand, but my beach is running out of sight

And the crack, is that gone too? – Amelia Pond

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