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It was magical. You, me, just playing around, was magical.
You were the magician, and I was your only audience. It was only the two of us. You did a lot of tricks, tricks that only someone who is as stupid as a five-year-old kid would believe. But I was stupid so I believed you anyway. I ignored every sign. I continued to watch even though I'm already dying inside.
I realized that there wasn't even an 'us'. I can say that you really are good in magic, because you tricked me. You tricked me into knowing that magic will find us in the deepest abyss of our lost minds. But magic was a fairytale I obliged to bathe in. A fake, deception of tricks and promises. And just like magic, you tricked me into the belief you're here, but sadly, you weren't even real.
YOU ARE READING
Silence and Bass
Poetry[COMPLETED] The silence was too deafening so I wrote them in tattered torn pages with jagged lines. Poems I wrote even in my sleep. The ink in my pen profusely bleeding out words and stories from my past that shaped my present and makes me anticipa...
