When the music's off and the room gets empty

Curses

You do not want to know me.

I have a curse.

Anything I touch will turn to dust.

Anyone I love will leave.

And anyone I marry will bring me that paper and pen.

It is written in my blood,
In the very womb I came from.

I am to love,
To be hurt,
And to be the one to hurt.

Eight times down, I have been struck.

Eight generations.

Eight families cursed.

And now it is mine.

They all had dreams.

They all had rings.

They all had love.

And they all had regret.

You do not want to know me.

I will bring hurt.

I will continue the cycle.

It is my curse.

It is all I know.

Two houses.

Two signatures.

Two months. Switch.

I cannot love without the fear I will become them.

The fear my curse will turn your silk to weed.

I will not escape.

I used to think I could.

Once, I believed the curse was a choice.

That love, if done carefully,
Might thread its way through the cracks.

But the cracks have only widened.

Each attempt leaves me emptier,
Each longing turned to quiet resignation.

I watch the world from a distance now.

Love happens around me,
Like an endless film I'm not meant to be part of.

I see the joy on their faces,
The way they laugh without hesitation,
The way their hands fit together like answers.

I wonder if they know the price.

I wonder if they will feel what I feel—
The slow, inevitable unraveling.

Do not touch me.

I am quiet ruin.

My curse is patient, waiting beneath my skin.

The love I long for will never be mine.

I want it, but not enough to destroy you.

So I stay here, silent.

I hold my curse as one holds a broken thing—
Gently, carefully,
Knowing it cannot be fixed.

This is my life.

Not a tragedy, not a triumph—
Just a story passed down.

Love is not for me.

And that is all I need to know.

-August

y'all know what time of year it is for divorced kids, tis the season for 2 hollidays! <3