“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, November 6, 2016
(unnamed)
It is magic
and you cannot stop me
from saving myself
from a worn out hex
bestowed onto to me.
It is energy (also chi)
and used methodically
to end this mean curse
in-heir-antly placed
I may live
by breaking.
It is healing,
helping myself,
or magic.
It is not about you.
It makes
me better.
It is the art
of magic.
Artwork credit By Internet Archive Book Images, Ladies Home Journal 1948 [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.
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