melt

The things you never asked for are the things you can’t seem to shake

When you were a cold and dead thing

You’d have died again for a taste of prescience

And now you are almost always real

And it hurts just to breathe

It hurts just to laugh sometimes

You know that every small joy

Comes at a price

That flowers are just a thing made for dying

And sweetness grows acrid after a time

And you long to be so cold again

To close your eyes and wish it all away

It used to be that easy

Once upon a time

(detritus)(poetica)(myth)(opinion)(divination)