I have black magic seeping from my fingertips into the ground
a cloudy, smoky substance that dances in the air
and twinkles in moonlight
I hate it
I hate how beautiful it is
I hate how much I love this magic
I hate how much I enjoy using it
so I will use it to destroy anything I love
as a punishment for the things I do not deserve.
a time, there was a girl who adored space. She read pages upon pages of books about constellations and the stars, memorizing names and how many miles away they were from earth.
I feel like I'm imposing
Which isn't fair for you to do,
It's not fair that you make me feel like I'm on the outside
I hate sitting here, trying to reignite what once was
I thought we we're doing this anymore
subjugated to solitude eternal,
only perceiving and watching love,
maybe receiving it but never understanding it
never internalizing it
it bounces off. Doesn't stick,
unkept and unruly and unclean.
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