Pulling the rabbit out of the hat caught my eye. Guessing the card that I picked made me stay. Trap doors and one way mirrors fascinated me. For our third and final act, you took a piece of me when you sawed me in half, but I was ever so willing to do it. And I didn't mind it at all.
Nonetheless, like all magic shows, the red curtains were withdrawn, and our performance came to a bitter end. Disappointed with the finale, I realised that none of it was real.
You were the magician and I was your greatest illusion.
YOU ARE READING
Polaroids Lost in Time
PoetryOriginal poems, short stories and lost polaroids. Some sad and others bittersweet.
