It killed me when the magic of the world proved to be fake,
And it was nothing short of exhaustion I felt in its wake.
A time of being deceived by men,
Years of being hurt time and again.
But it did not happen in some grandiose way,
Where the sirens rang loud and I knew on a certain day.
No, it happened over millennias of other lifetimes before I even came to be,
That when it was finally my turn, it was no stranger to me.
It only was in the way that I hoped it wasn’t true.
That I hoped the disappearing cards and the magical growing scarves were all from you,
And that you caused the magic of everyday
Much like a rabbit popping from a hat on its way.
But you didn’t give me anymore magic than I had already had before,
For no one needed eyes to see the things you were capable of in your core.
And I couldn’t go through life with a person like that,
And so, unlike the rabbit, I escaped the hat.
-Natalie Cait
that gray area 