magic show

you say you feel tricked

well then i guess i'm a magician.

a magician who

looked down at you,

kneeling at her feet.

and agreed to do some magic.

does it matter that

i never felt like a magician,

never heard any applause, not a single ooh or ahh.

i would tiptoe around you

always worried i was the con artist you say i am.

i missed you terribly when you came back to me

wounded and afraid

we came rushing back with the rain

(peace on earth now the only thing left untainted)

i, a girl on a pedestal she hasn't earned,

listened to your request

i waded through the colorful swamp of wrong and right and came up muddy and empty handed

i saw fit to grant it,

i knew it was risky, but you had to know too.

in order to be tricked doesn't there need to be an illusion, some kind of slight of hand distraction, at least one fog or mirror?

but i held up a sign that said

I CAN'T PROMISE YOU SAFETY

(i can't promise you anything)

and like a loving dog that can not read you came right up next to me.

walked along with me,

so hopeful, so happy, smiling as i tostled your fur

(the fear still vibrating inside you, the fear i could feel if i put my hand to you)

i walked with you so happy to not be alone.

i loved your company, even with the guilt that comes with magic

i gave you everything you requested.

(with the exception of a kiss)

i fulfilled your request.

and now you call me a magician,

tricking the innocent.

but you knew all along.

and

maybe i knew too.

i'll take the badge of magician, i can wear it when i'm around you.

to remind you of my terrible acts. to remind you of the danger.

but it stays with you.

i will not bring it into my future.

i'll leave my wand, rabbit, and scarves in your cold and empty house.

i'll leave the guilt,

walk out tall.

(and i won't even care that she won it all.)

it's strange

how i'm proud of you for giving up on me.

even as i walk off the stage a villian,

the ghost of me condemned to wander the streets of your life accepting that i will have rotten tomatoes aimed at me.

i now hope to be forgotten.

for so long i wanted to be remembered,

a painting on a wall, a love lost, simple and lovely.

a painting in a forgotten about wing of your castle,

once having hung in a place of glory,

only found by the most curious of explorers,

but now i know i'm haggard, rotten vegetables stuck in my hair.

smiling with one tooth at the next girl who follows in my wake.

i do hope she loves you.

but i don't think that matters.

without self respect,

everyone is a magician.

tricking you into thinking they're you're friend

tricking you into thinking they cared.

i'm proud of you giving up on me,

i think it's the part of me that loves you that says that.

because i think that part of me knows you need to.

knows the future is bigger and safer and better.

i believe no one is a magician.

people care, even if they flake, even if they leave, even if

they hurt you.

we are all earnest

holding up signs.

please,,

read the signs,

listen to the warnings.

be brave as you go forward.

any girl could love you.

you are easy to love.

but be wise,

any girl could hurt you.

i'll end my extended tour of your life,

i'll haunt your streets as a memory no one is happy to see,

the ugly one-toothed-face circling the outskirts.

build up your defenses love

open and protect your heart.

i say standing as one who snuck in and with all of my tricks popped a hole that deflated your whole heart.

who tried to patch it up,

who didn't patch it up.

and,

if it matters,

you're a painting on my wall in my city,

you have a halo.