The Small Starling at the Middle of my Labyrinth...

 

 

Ever since I could remember,
Everything inside of me,
Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)
I was never one for pretenders,
Everything I tried to be,
Just wouldn't settle in (oh oh oh oh)

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because,
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

Can I clear my conscience,
If I'm different from the rest,
Do I have to run and hide? (oh oh oh oh)
I never said that I want this,
This burden came to me,
And it's made it's home inside (oh oh oh oh)

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because,
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

Source: http://www.directlyrics.com/imagine-dragons-monster-lyrics.html

Ever since I could remember,
Everything inside of me,
Just wanted to fit in (oh oh oh oh)
I was never one for pretenders,
Everything I tried to be,
Just wouldn't settle in (oh oh oh oh)

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because,
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

Can I clear my conscience,
If I'm different from the rest,
Do I have to run and hide? (oh oh oh oh)
I never said that I want this,
This burden came to me,
And it's made it's home inside (oh oh oh oh)

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because,
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

Source: http://www.directlyrics.com/imagine-dragons-monster-lyrics.html

Ever since I could remember,
everything inside of me,
Just wanted to fit in (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh).
I was never one for pretenders,
Everything I tried to be,
Just wouldn't settle in (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh).

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
 and if I seemed dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because,
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
 That this problem lies in me......

I'm only a man with a chamber who's got me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me.
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster,
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

Can I clear my conscience,
If I'm different from the rest,
Do I have to run and hide? (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh).
I never said that I want this,
This burden came to me,
And it's made it's home inside. (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh).

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
and if I seemed dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because,
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
 That this problem lies in me...

[Imagine Dragons - Monster]

 

 

 

Long time...?

 

...kiddo, you have no idea...

 

Let me take you aside,

to step aside and step inside...

to wind around the back of eternity with me?

 

Sounds good...

doesn't it?

 

But what does it take,

for a hop, skip and a jump around fate?

 

Step into the waters...

feel them wind about your feet,

watch the girl with the cornsilk hair...

with blue and sand rushing about her feet,

 

Listen to the wail of the seagull...

and the grey hammering its' way through the hollows in rocks,

sounds that echo out from a thousand caverns...

made tiny by the erosion of ten thousand centuries,

of waves and beating and waaves...

we wave,

goodbye as the ship sets sail...

 

for untold shores.

 

We polish the shells we collect every day,

with the tears we shed every night...

for we dance and we dance,

till our shoes are worn to wisp...

and we are walking on bare bone,

tonight.

 

I listen to the breeze...

and I listen to the silence,

now and again...

and I hear the static,

cold and clear in my head...

and the limbs that move in that wavering fear,

reaching out across airways...

and attics and beneath archways,

below doorways and nooks and crannies...

have you ever been in a nook?

have you ever been in a crannie?

 

The wind it howls...

the wind it screams,

around you and me...

Follow me across the dead leaves and moss,

and through the strange sounds creeping with the breeze...

we hear our true name,

through this forest of decay...

we can feel our feet and our souls,

being devoured by the acid here...

it eats away at the walls of our mind,

until all that is left trembles or fights...

and so we fight,

and scream and rage...

as the day reaches further around us,

its' arms like spindles and spiders...

and we toil and gain,

greed slathering diamonds upon our teeth...

to recall our name and rejoice in our shadow,

and fame...

while meanwhile our bones melt,

and we can no longer run...

and finally we embrace the gold at its' end...

we pass through this forest,

this darkness...

this gloom,

and soon we are stepping out...

into a most peaceful kind of night,

and then first morning light.

 

I drove against a wind tonight...

I swam against a river,

I boarded a ferry covered in tea lights...

and set sail down its way,

as the ghosts creaked in the wood about...

and the carp nibbled away at our hull,

we hummed and drank...

glasses of light and warmth,

as the darkness huddled closer still...

and the heat of the day lingered in our blood,

upon our windowsill...

we were carried across a universe or two,

on a hundred different wings...

and a sail to guide us to you,

to the new...

where the lazy eye peers from wicker chairs beneath the sun,

and the sea whispers...

and the waves extend through our soul,

and we feel the sand moulding with our toes...

and a distant figure,

at the very farthest point of the beach...

waiting patiently for you there,

with a silent breath in...

you walk forward.

 

  Hi there,


   I have been away in the story DreamTime...listening to old rumours and memories. Even some echoes...at times. I felt fear the other week, and last night I was swept and torn away by the midnight wind: as I rode back home on my electric bike.

  I have had to recreate my facebook account and everything else.

Of wondrous things...I went to Dracula's the other night with a friend. I dressed in my black corsette and wild-things skirt, laced heels and freaky hat. Also went crazy with the black garish warpaint on my face. Found the man in the red feathers and with brilliant eyes intriguing and went home drunk. Scared an old man in a nearby car by drinking the cocktail blood-bag I took home from Dracs... hehe...

   I also finally got a medallion of my own.

Much Love,

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 



The Crying-Mask and the Blade Held....

 

'They are waiting for you...'

 

A figure stands at the end of the street,

with a smile like a knife...

and a heart fashioned from lead,

You walk closer...

and the stones echo your intent,

he beckons you nearer still...

 

'They are waiting for you,'

the figure whispers into the breeze...

'tyrants and kings have gathered,

and now the only missing piece is you...

For the Sinister Meeting Room calls,'

 

Mechanical noises boom from the sky...

and as you stand before him,

ash rains down...

'We are standing amidst a war' he proclaims,

to you as your clothes are smudged black...

'the whole of the world,

turning backwards and In...

we must run,

we must run...

now,

Lest the stars die while we are still watching...

and the streets break apart,

so come with me now...

and soar.'

 

The figure spins away from you and grabbing your arm he climbs,

far up the tallest light pole...

his nimble footsteps ringing in time,

Once at the top you sway and stare...

as the figure he roars and then slams his fist down,

The light pole upon which you balance...

suddenly splits in two,

and a world of colour seeps out...

as he grasps your hand and pulls you through,

leaving the earth you know behind...

 



Chaos and mayhem,

colour and dark...

fill your mind to the brim,

as you travel past the secrets...

held by the Sinister Meeting Room,

He shows you things...

wonders of old,

of the octopus that exists at the centre of it all...

swirling and stretching at the farthest point of the universe,

He shows you the bones of the earth...

and how the music they make is the beat of a drum,

and he spirits you across ten million waves...

until eventually you arrive at a curtain,

that sits by itself amongst the clouds...

He ushers you in,

with a nod and a wink...

and the darkness of night consumes you full,

Then you are greeted...

by the theatre at the centre of the puzzle,

you fall into place...

as hands are raised to applaud you,

You sit down amongst a people of no number...

of faceless faces and grins that sift across the shadows,

to you...

The smallest of fish float luxuriously about,

and you feel a wale stirring within your own thoughts...

 

It dives and bends,

filling the spaces with words that are foreign,

as a single figure with a crying mask stands to address...

you,

and the others...

'We once dreamt a dream,

though it has been lost to us until now...

the dream was that we dwelt within a mansion,

and the doors...

the windows,

we would lock every night...

do not step too close to the windows,

do not wonder why the air you breathe is cold...

for if too close you step,

then the monsters will grin back...

we locked ourselves away from the world,

yet someone opened a door...

and someone let one of them IN,

We did not know what had been done...

until the cold of that world,

invaded our heart...

now we are trapped in a labyrinth that grows,

and spreads and changes and hides...

who shall break it,

none do know...

but we tend to adhere to the Sinister Meeting Rooms' morals,

to break the illusion...

we must break our own reflection,

and all may be undone...

but who should choose,

such a task?'

 

It is then that you realize...

why you have come,

why you were led to such a meeting...

you raise your hand,

and the crying-mask bows low to you...

and then steps aside,

to reveal a single mirror...

contained within a door,

The crying-mask offers to you...

the smallest of blades,

you do not need to ask...

you do not look at them,

as you lift your knife and aim...

the mirror it shatters with your blows,

and you feel some part of yourself fracturing...

a wind it howls,

and once more you feel the ash of the stars...

and you wonder if it was a wise decision to make,

But by then you have chosen...

your path to take,

and the crying-mask offers no clue...

you turn around,

wondering what is next...

and see at once,

that the Sinister Meeting Room is empty...

 

Save for a familiar voice,

that whistles out to you...

words that imprint on your mind too,

'Travel backwards and unlearn what you have learnt...

know the smiles for the demons they are,

and to escape...

you now know the way,

because it is only by the breaking that you can destroy the illusion...'

 

You see a sign set at the centre of the room,

and as the lights dim you stoop down to see...

 

'The Sinister Meeting Room has temporarily been closed,

and shall be out of action for the next heart-beat...

if you wish to find us again,

Travel deep...

you will see the crying-mask and the smile like a blade,

and we are happy to take you...

far away from here,

for now we have adjourned...

and the theatre plays our soul,

we are unadorned and naked - hidden...

between these million walls.'

 

A flash of light...

scatters your vision,

and you feel a strong hand pulling you back...

through music played backwards,

and ships that sail across the sky...

until once more you are upon that street,

you see ash upon the sidewalk...

yet the stars remain as they are,

and very soon the tiniest of winds...

sweeps down to catch the ashes up,

and you are alone again...

as you walk forward,

a knowledge of Fate within your heart.

 

 My days have become like limbo....
    I have been grounded by Fate, as it were. But I can write...I can write, and that's always the main thing. The important thing. Everything else fades into a grey rumble...and sometimes it's deafening, and other times it's too soft to hear.
   I had a thought the other night, watching one movie or another....all the girls and all the men in romantic films...all movies in fact, are telling the same story in a million and one different ways. I often wonder what would happen if the girl did catch the man, and if the man let the girl catch him. But there is no ending to that story, and I have a suspicion there never will. But maybe, possibly...if things change.

  Much Love,
Miss CLScarlett xx



 

 

 



 

 

 

The Lime Bottle of Mayhem...

 

 

You are in a forest...

 

 

 

Listen.

...

 

..........

 

They are coming for you...

they are coming,

for you...

Child,

we must flee.

 

Now.

 

Over the fields bound by the bent bare trees...

their gnarled and ageless limbs trap our way,

they writhe and coil in silent places...

tangle their branches and claws in front of us,

we fly and screech through their blades...

faster than the wind can howl,

we spirit across the vastness of them...

until we arrive at a bare place,

 

But...

that was before,

and now....

 

You,

are...

 

In a Forest.

 

Listen...

They are coming,

they are coming...

 

The blackness is covering the land,

not a colour...

not an idea,

my dear, dear friend...

I speak not of that,

but a wave a vein...

a sinking of flesh,

the claws that dig deeper...

into our chests,

they bind us in iron...

and with the name of Numb,

we shut out the darkness...

and with it,

the light....

it vanishes,

it goes...

 

gone.

 

We race from the shadows,

across the sea...

we bound fearlessly,

through haunted lagoons...

pass legends of deaths,

and haunted islets...

places where demons rolled the dice,

decided life for life...

in exchange for glee,

and the fame...

and the fire,

because to live...

the only way to live,

is to dance on the knife's edge...

touch the flames,

knick your cheek with the knife to atone your fate...

become the witch by laughing at the terror and the gates,

we are the sea witch...

we know not what we do,

we become what we fear...

what we said we'd never do,

yet you live with a bounty on your head...

and a will to die inside your eyes,

for the demon fears are not the others the world...

no the terror exists inside your soul,

 

a crows nest...

I see them always,

one sits in my pocket...

and the rest hover over all,

I see them everywhere when I run in the mornings...

when I ride home at night they fly with me as well,

the Sea witches time is running to a stop...

let the sea take me back,

lest I become as I was to be born...

 



 

Will you flee with me?

 

They are coming...

they are coming,

 

We run...

through salt,

and across black lakes that swarm with life...

we tread through reeds,

and lands uncrossed...

where we can revert to what we were,

we trust our minds...

when they were not ours to trust,

how can one trust the oceans' deepest trench...

when to see its' secrets,

it would require giving up your last breath?

We kill ourselves to feel whole and sane...

I do not speak of the literal death,

more the inner death...

of what counts for the spirit,

 

Oh Scarr...

did you really think a soul like yours could be saved,

you gave your heart, your soul, your belief...

to the love of dear Sodom,

the relief you created...

for your own mind,

 

Yet from that...

even from that,

we flee...

 

Willyourunwithme?

 

To a path by the ocean...

between buildings washed with bone and silver,

their colour fading out with the ever retreating sea...

it corrodes,

and nibbles...

and takes and smashes and changes what it will,

as it will us...

and we race and we dance and we flee,

along the path by the sea...

and the wind it howls like the rain wolf,

the creature that appears between myth and rain and soot...

and it growls,

and it moans...

and the rain it pounds on soul and on stone,

and we become more...

I still remember that moment,

when my feet were bleeding from the stones I ran on...

and I raced a dark figure ahead,

while the waves pounded to our right and to our left...

we were in love,

but he'd never let me catch him...

and I'd never allow myself to run fast enough to reach him,

sometimes we still race each other along the path by the sea...

even though we are old now,

so old...

and we no longer remember what our faces look like,

and why we should one day catch one another...

yet that knowledge was lost,

somewhere between East and North...

and across ten million seas,

we cannot look back...

we cannot look forward,

and at our feet rests a blade we abhor...

that they scream at us to take into our hands,

to seize with our fists...

and lift against the interior demands,

to break every chain...

and cut every bond,

yet we remain...

and we softly and beautifully die in our frames,

 

 

So I run...

and I have asked you to run with me,

to fade into the distance...

and start anew and otherly,

If I had one wish it would be...

that a clone could be created of me,

 to love and marry...

be happy and merry,

be there for those I love...

so that I - the none-clone - could disappear,

live my life...

maybe decide to be sad,

so that to those I love could be the right person...

let me disappear,

for they are coming...

they are coming,

and if we stand when they do...

we may be cut down,

for they are coming...

they are coming,

and we must flee to someplace Other...

flee with me,

and let us slip past time...

for no time can help us,

and no body...

we spin and we trip and we scramble,

until eventually...

hopefully,

we rest...

away.

 

Far away...

 

Run with me.

 

    Stand in the rain and scream.


Miss CLScarlett xx

 

 

 

 

 



 

 

 

 

The Suburb of Saints, Wine and Angels...

 

There are tunnel's through my mind...

and in the streets surrounding me,

They burrow deeply in unseen ways...

they cross beneath Raphael Court,

WE leave our skins and shadows behind...

in the dust and pouring rain,

and join our bones to the hidden wires...

that lace this suburb tonight,

We forgot why we were designed...

what our gears and mechanics do,

We forgot that we had a soul to hide...

before the soul-stealers snatched that from us too,

Now we step forward with ankles shod with iron...

and brands that still singe,

and the weights we carry in our arms...

we fear to drop lest we wake our dead,

I sprinted through a labyrinth of paths this morning...

sprinting ahead of the claws,

I moved about the chalk circle drawn there...

between Monet and Angelo Court,

then through the crows that perch screaming on the hill crest...

they wail at me,

and I wail back...

we all wail,

to end the gale...

yet night and day the wind it blows,

40000 miles per hour...

I see the people,

bent against its' force...

yet they are laughing and carrying on their life,

why is it that WE cannot withstand its' blades?

 

 

There was a grain of sand that thought it was a mountain...

There was a hand tying a rope,

about their hands, the bars, the yoke...

showing the sand it was but a grain,

There was a moth that decided not to die...

we die believing we won't,

and we scratch and punch ourselves for living for our heart...

when it is comfort to live for the heart of others,

because both...

require a blade,

either you turn the blade on yourself...

carve out your own heart,

or you hold the other person down and do it to them...

which would you choose?

There was once a kitten...

that fell down a hole,

something sucked it down...

something kept it down there,

what came back...

was something else,

something feral...

and ELSE,

You look into her eyes and face...

and you see something else,

you look in the mirror...

you see something else,

there is no us...

only the something else,

and what we write and speak...

writhes into life in the very air,

moulding and shaping and disintegrating...

again and again and again,

we uncreate our recreations...

 



There was a road,

that travelled down to nowhere...

it passed ten different gates,

and two-thousand and ninety-five hundred doors...

we stopped by each,

and tried a different delicacy...

a perfect moment in one we shared,

and in another the perfect storm...

we heard a song unfurl like the darkest of octopuses,

and a reef that glowed beneath the moon...

a silent dance of colour and darkness,

falling and weaving timelessly...

a ride into the endless distance,

and a way to live outside...

them,

we are the generation of the 1984...

and so far into the distance,

we tread the paths of the future...

because this is what they dreamed for us,

and hasn't that dream turned into more of a nightmare?

I stood in the oldest part of my suburb this week...

and the pavement turned into an ocean beneath my feet,

the dugongs and seahorses nibbled at my soles...

and I saw the shifting and vast hue,

a lighting storm of comets...

moved throughout the deep,

and the palest of fish swum up into the heat...

to whisper something in my ear,

 

'They will come in waves...

for the ocean is rising,

for the ocean...

is,

rising...

and our tails chase our tales through the mirrors,

and mirages...

we will be forgotten,

once we are remembered...

so help us that we should die angels,

rather than demons...'

 

 

We weave a new story into our lives,

and we roll the dice and play the game with no rules...

yet only one,

a life for a life...

against Fate?

He who changes the rules...

uses a whip and suffocation to place you where it wants,

we are the mice between the cats' claws...

and boy does he love to see us jump,

he who knows where the killing blow is for you...

challenge him?

Sure...

I keep trying,

only problem is...

Fate don't make no bargains Sir,

 

To weave and bound our way through his mazes...

we must stand despite the missiles,

walk forward despite the thorns...

laugh in the face of the shark,

the knife...

accept freedom in exchange for warmth,

become the in-between...

yet perhaps he shall tire of our games,

and allow all a little peace...

maybe we'll shake hands one day,

and sit down for a bite to eat...

And if dear Fate decides,

to see this as a challenge...

then Heaven help me,

for the next hit...

he'll use an axe.

 

 



 

Tread carefully...

unicorns roam here,

and boy do they have looooooooong....

teeth.

 

 

 

 

   So....I have emerged from my exile to Blogging. Every hour seems to have taken on a blank or charcoal hue...and I know that unless I can get out get out get out get out get out get out out get out out out of Here...I shall not know up V from down ^ ;;^.

 

   Sorry to have such a creepy Blog as a first one after all this time. Endure the silence so as to find the new and yet old light. That's what I always felt when I was very young...that I was running after this trail of golden light through the darkness that was always just around the corner...just over there, keep going a little further.

   Sometimes I still feel it pulling me along...sometimes I wonder if it's more like a siren song, leading me on to my end.

 

   Sometimes I think I shouldn't think so much. Sometimes I don't.

 

   What is it that you regret...or don't?

 

   Here...I'll start (then you):

 

   I don't regret anything except that I listened to my homesickness rather than my head. 

 

 

 

 

 

  Much Love,

 

   Miss CLScarlett xx

 

P.S. I plan to not marry anyone at all. [Try and stop me, Fate].

 

 

 

REFLECTION NOITCELFER...in other words, The Jewell's we Wore...

 

We are the framed and grey-between...

 

Lifting our wrists to shake our glass chains,

oh so prettily they sparkle upon our arms...

He told me they looked like diamonds,

thousands of diamonds scattered over my skin...

 

If only they weren't so jagged,

If only they hadn't cut paths through us at night...

because the diamonds move,

trail their broken edges through the hidden parts of us...

 

Are you scared yet?

I'm not either...

I'm freezing,

the cold grows larger and blacker and vaster...

 

Once I was at a beach,

and the only illumination was a distant lighthouse...

and the crashing of the waves,

creating static...

and I saw something unfurl in the dark,

made from particles and shifting...

and stretching towards me,

now I wonder...

if it wasn't both the sea and Her that broke me,

and yet the sea that recreated me...

How can something both destroy and heal?

 

I can hear it...

Like a faint buzz or static in my left ear,

always moving...

Can you hear it?

It's the sand...

sifting through the slender path between two glass spheres,

sifting away our minutes...

 

Only I learnt,

that eternity and Heaven is no time...

I wish I could go back to limbo,

where I held more hours than panic or ending...

 

We swim,

way down deep...

to touch the broken land,

Beneath us...

 

 

Step away from yourself,

don't be afraid...

 to listen to the silence,

to wait out the night...

to dance the wrong way,

to not feel...

to feel,

to embrace what is wrong and maybe cold and lonely and yet....

there is a certain wakefulness and life to that,

isn't there Scar?

Isn't there friend?

 

If death is what awaits...

then we run to the fear,

we run and scream in its' face...

or perhaps we come to it gladly,

because in the end...

it is one of the only ones that so ever does want to embrace you,

to take us in its' sweet ferocity...

cold and forget,

what light awaits...

when the darkness is like acid,

burning away ninety-five percent of your foundations...

before you even realize how greatly you have already collapsed,

and...

why fix?

Why fix...

what doesn't want...

to be fixed,

what won't let...

be fixed,

we won't.

 

A crow flew through the eves of my head the other day...

and it whispered something to me,

'See, seeee...?

We are the catastrophe.'

He's hidden in my pocket now...

protecting my lungs,

protecting my word...

and every so often he puts on my eyes,

and flies me around the world...

we travelled through tunnel's,

and we listened to the language of kings...

we broke into fort Knox,

just to laugh over their heads...

we stole the worlds most valuable diamond,

and charted the night skies from the tree tops...

we spied a small river,

that ended at a secret pool...

and in its' depths we gazed,

and gazed...

and saw where we went wrong,

we woke up the sleeping doll...

that stumbles along in her chains of glass,

and we tore back her masks...

and shattered holes amidst the glass,

we brought her labyrinth burning down...

and sealed its' grave with stone and sound,

so that no more the claws would hold her tight...

and sleep would welcome her at night,

 

 

till when we wake again...

and upon a gentle grass crest I sit,

to watch an eternity of warm nights go by...

in Haven unto we step.

 

 

 

 

 

  So dear creatures....

 

 

     Miss Scarlett has been swept up in a moving, drifting chaos of no-time...and I miss writing more than ever because of it. Do you know this agitation...? Like a burn, burn, burning or itch. Write now. Write now. Write now. Life however, seems to insist on no such thing.

    To write...it seems I must choose between it or the world, to be melodramatic.

 

    Why indeed not be melodramatic? It feels like melodrama's stepping back into the spotlight again...and boy have we missed it. I mean, be honest with yourself, you can't beat a really, oh-so-terribly-evil-and-fabulous-because-of-it bad guy. A melodramatic bad guy.

 

 

   Sorry to ramble, and I hope your nights aren't too chaotic...but peaceful perhaps.

 

 

Much Love,

 

    Miss CLScarlett xx