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
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
The memory of being magic doesn’t disappear
When powerlessness takes its place
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.