The Pretence of Magic :: musicalsoulblog :: Original Poetry

The Pretence of Magic

As if my magic my heart falters,

for he is no longer by my side,

and its so used to skipping a beat -

that it continues its tradition quietly.

Soon it will catch up with my head,

realize that he is gone and softly

break into pieces with the knowledge,

I'm trying not to think about it.

For now I haze my head with drinks,

and pretend that the space in my bed

is just as full as the space in my heart -

and I stumble home silenced by the silence.

In the future I know my heart will feel the pain

of seeing his face once more,

and all of the pretending I've done

will fall apart the moment my soul cries.

So I'll find ways to stay away from him,

let my heart falter, soothe my souls pain

and haze my head with poison,

just for another day of pretence, of magic.