Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

We’re Going To Have a Good Year

I pretend I can’t remember the past,

demons become angels when you don’t feed them your fear.

Mine are starving,

that’s how I like them,

baying for my blood,

with a shady smile upon their lips.

I hold you all night,

and I am not afraid.

Holding onto the idea of our empire,

mountains made of miracles,

stretching out before us,

so far that there are parts I can’t see,

places I cannot yet venture,

but the hope is a bridge,

long, rickety and terrifying,

but stable with each step I take,

in spite of the hungry whispers of my angels.

We cast spells on each other,

you and me,

powerful and pretty beyond measure,

sending sparks shooting across the sky,

like glamorous gunfire on a desolate night,

and I follow the stars,

tracing the stars,

smiling wickedly, at the way they shine underneath your skin.

I hold you all night,

walking bridges to our kingdom,

singing along to the song of your soft breathing.

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