Manufacturing Miracles

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When you are a child

You are supposed to be born a miracle

And grow in magic.

 

You are supposed to be a blessing.

You are supposed to be two hearts’ deepest wish.

 

You are supposed to be born in love

To love.

 

You are supposed to be wonder.

 

My magic was stolen away

Borrowed dreams, broken wand

My miracle was in survival

My blessing squandered in denial

That I didn’t get to enjoy my power.

 

I wasn’t a blessing but a triumph.

I wasn’t a wish but a conquest.

 

I was born in desperation

To adore.

 

The memory of being magic doesn’t disappear

When powerlessness takes its place

Coveting

Happy endings

I wish.

 

I manufacture miracles in my mind

I destroy my hope so I can admire how it doesn’t die

I break myself so I can watch myself grow

I hurt myself so I can feel myself heal.

 

When I was a child

I learned blood magic instead of joycraft

So now when I want to manufacture a miracle

I bleed my mind

And delight in knowing the scars won’t show.

 

They call my miracle anxiety

But I call it magical.

I call it invisible

I call it

The only power I’ve ever known.

 

 

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