Dear magic,
Of course you disappear, that’s why you’re called magic.
You are not real. You are meant to get away.
They say truth always brings you comfort. Well, it still breaks my heart to know you left me.
I thought you could stay forever with me.
Why did you leave my body? Did you find another one, more beautiful or stronger?
I thought you loved these fingers, this pale skin… your home.
Once, I said I am a witch of love and I started writing poems and painting dreams in my favorite colors.
Purple, pink, unicorn sky.
Good and bad, heroes to dream at night.
Crystals and spices, flowers and herbs.
Salt.
Lavender.
Violets.
In the death of you, I’ll put all the veils back up. Those ones that love has gently removed.
I’ll build up walls and make myself a fortress. Because you know, when I used to believe in magic, these ways to protect me didn’t matter. Magic was protecting me, with its invisible shield. Maybe I was blindfolded, who cared, as long as I was feeling that I’m walking safe. In my poet sandals and with my long hair caressed by the wind… I was just happy. Until I wasn’t and that was just meant to be.