Sometimes I wonder, if we could survive the sabotage.

Glimmers of truth, twisted with lies, trying to pick find the beautiful flowers, among the ones with  poisons.

But weren’t you always intoxicated by the deadliest of things?

Rumors swirl among the grapevine, and you feel like Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole, some mushrooms make you big, some are magical, some  make you feel so small you worry about being eaten alive, of earth and spades and the bright sunlight, when you want to remain below, the soft dark earth damp and welcoming.

I before e except after c

You think back on those early childhood grammar lessons, and wonder if with others, I should be before we. But you don’t know where the I would be, if you never met her.

You wish, We came before I. That you could somehow save her, by leaving the confines of this world yourself. You wonder if she isn’t waiting for you on the other side, huge brown eyes and long ghostly fingers, always drawing you  nearer to their world. You can’t stop thinking of the text she sent, when you briefly had to cross an Ocean. (I can’t believe I made a best friend just to lose her! We will be together again soon xxx) You wonder if you are not disappointing her by remaining in your shell yourself. Why you would ever leave, your own health be damned.

And what is it about love, anyway?

Loving someone always seems to imply conflict, strife. You think about your favorite passages in the poetry you read, the supernatural shows you prefer.

“Love is a dangerous angel”

“A demon sent to snare me?” “Or a perfect fit, body and soul.”

You feel like you have always loved others too deeply. But where would you be, without you friends for happiness and comfort? Without your partner for love and respect?

But what if those two worlds collide?

How can someone with the longest black eyelashes, the bluest of eyes and the kindest of laughs when he smiles at you, be a demon? Sometimes the intensity of it all scares you and you just want to run, to sleep, to disappear entirely.

You used to be so good at seeing through people, but some are more complicated than others. Sometimes you wonder if some even know what their intentions truly are.

Are you trying to save someone, are you again falling for the scapegoat, the underdog, somehow knowing that after the competition ends, they will win the race? That you both will?

Sometimes you wonder at what you see when you remove your heart shaped glasses. At the friends whose minds you worry for, whose health you care about.

But how can you fault anyone for going for the poison, for taking that sip of their preferred broth. How can you fault someone for repeating your past mistakes? For wondering, is the answer at the bottom of that wine glass, in the pixie’s powder, if they simply don’t care anymore in that act of forgetting.

When you return to reality life is harsh, the sunlight burning your translucent skin. Can you really fault those for their sabotage, for throwing shards of the Snow Queen’s glass into your sea-blue eyes?

Sometimes you wonder who is actually hurting you the most.

The ivy vine of rumors, trying to pick the roses from the narcotic poison of the sweet-smelling Oleanders, the constant whispers racing through your mind.

Finding those roses only to prick yourself, lying bare naked and bleeding among the thorns.

At times you wonder most if you are sabotaging one another, or yourself.

When you have no idea what will happen next, if either of you even deserve redemption.

They say Lucifer  was the most beautiful of God’s angels right before the fall.


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