i remember a conversation from when i was younger. i was asked what i looked for in someone. you see, i told them that i look for the qualities of a best friend. now that i look back on that conversation, i wonder why i wanted to fall in love with a best friend. because now that i have, i want it to go away.

they call it FALLING in love for a reason, don’t they?

for me at least, it’s a cruel experience to fall in love with my best friend. i’m sure a lot of people would relate to this since of course i’m not the only person who’s been in this situation. but i wonder.

i love his smile, and his laugh. i love the way his voice gets higher when he’s laughing through his sentence. i love how he constantly says his funny jokes even though it’s not an appropriate time to say them. i love that he’s so passionate about his hobbies. i love that he’s so respectful and kind towards others. i love everything about him. from every flaw that people hate to every single best quality he’s ever had. sure he’s made mistakes, but we all do. i don’t mind if his past is a little marked up, mine is as well. i don’t really care.

he is my best friend. my closest guy friend. he’s seen me at my best but also at my worst. i remember every little detail of his response to my confession. i remember the heartbreak. but i remember the relief i had when he said it wouldn’t mess up our friendship.

it hasn’t messed up our friendship yet, thank god. but it’s messed up me. my mind. my emotions. i love him. im in love with him to the point where i’m drowning in it. i’m drowning in the love that i have for him. and while i wish i could stop, my heart seems to believe that theres still a chance for me here.

witch

swirl your pencil like a broom

and write your magic spells

 

isolation became my friend, as i wove  spells with graphite. all my life i was told, witches burn by firelight.

 

don’t listen to what they say

gathering together a witches hunt

 

hiding in silence stuffy and stiff, i heard the crowds pass by. i could tell them i wasn’t a witch but that would be a lie.

 

stir the pot carefully

don’t let it boil over

 

the first spell i ever brewed, was a casted charm of invisibility. but i’ve gone too long without writing, so now they’re gonna catch me.

 

i was branded with a witch’s mark

for casting a spell on him

 

i never wrote a spell for him, he fell all on his own. but for all the witch hunters, i was destined to me alone.

 

one less witch

one more light in the world

 

stories never told how i gave in willingly, realizing the differences i had wanted to make, could be made by just being me.

 

they gave my ashes to the king

and claimed that the witch had burned

but the stake was empty that day

because as a witch i burned up from the inside out

(unwritten spells are magic of their own)

until the fire was afriad of me