Im pretty good at magic.
Not a sentence I ever thought I'd write because I'm bad at party tricks
And could never identify which one was your card

Lately though, I've been studying with someone
Someone so much better at magic than
I am, I find shivers of joy at every touch

I've seen this woman make ritualistic sacrifice in the name of a better future

Ive seen the clouds bend at the knee, and recoil so that she may see the moon

I've seen smoke clouds dance around her tear stained cheeks as if the bubbling passion underneath were burning off the tears as they fell.

Ive fallen into a deep and unbreakable spell by listening to her bird like songs

Ive seen her fight demons turned cruel by the tides that change at her very wish and baptize the hearts of men in pools of love in its purest, most volatile form

I've seen her tears freeze with sadness as if she were a beautiful portrait frozen in time

Ive seen her curse Gods only for them to bow their heads in shame and apologize like sheepish guilty children.

And sometimes when shes asleep at night,
I can see the angels that come nightly to inspect their fallen sister and ensure her safe travels through the world

I can only hope that I am just as skilled in this craft of passion and evolution
To be able to one day call her truly mine

I survive by snatching breadcrumbs of happiness wherever I can find them
I love giving these breadcrumbs to those around me
Being able to make people happy
Somewhat more fulfilled
Maybe even make them smile
But now the strangest things have happened
A cascading fall of kingdoms releasing prisoners long cast into a dreamland of strange clouds, and nightmarish shadows
The cry for help heard around the world followed by the roaring outrage of its noble hearted
A plague of misinformation

For some reason the breadcrumbs don't fall from wherever they do, anymore
For some reason, I've become thinner
Hungrier
Now every breadcrumb feels like a feast
Every minor win my greatest achievement to date
Every loss, a tragedy and product of my own actions and choices

Last night was the first time I found a pile of breadcrumbs
Just waiting, with brightly lit lights gleaming off the toasty surface

And last night was the first time
That after gorging myself with breadcrumbs until I could no longer eat from discomfort
And investing many of them towards my freedom
I was sliced open
And forced to give them back

And now, I'm bleeding.
But the funniest part about it is
The hunger pangs have returned
And as my sliced belly growls
And I swim in the pool I've collected
All I can think about
Is another ******* Breadcrumb.

Pages of burning emotion flutter through the wind
Flipping from one end of my journey and milestones to the other
Letting the sun kiss each page as it transfers

The ink is dry
But the blood, and tears I've graced these pages with are very much still running through the words planted in the same field.

My pen screamed and etched images of my future
As my brain burned with a passion magnified by a deep sickness

And as the gunshots of thought blare
My pen rams the pages

And then silence
The scribbling scratches of the quill quiets down
And the accelerated breathing turns soft and shakey

The Prophet ends his journal entry
With a slice of the thumb
A bit of blood smeared on his art to ensure his life stays with it
And a night of deep sobbing stalking closely behind.

I was once a Comet
Racing through space in a blind fury
Towards some unknown goal that was so much bigger than I
That I stay trapped in an orbit so super massive
Everywhere I go and everything I see becomes the first time I've seen it

I was once a Comet.
My light burned so brightly everyone within hundreds of thousands of miles could see
And they watched as I accelerated with joy and pride in their hearts
Making wishes and hoping the universe grants it

I was once a Comet
And because I was unable to see myself
I believed them when they said I was on fire
That I was some ever burning torch
Destined to give my light for millennia.

I was once a Comet
And as I traveled, my mass decreased
Bits of stone and ice were lost as my stardust began to strike stagnant meteors and debris
I began to slow
My light became dim

I no longer receive the wishes of the people.
Their cries of pride and joy are a ghost to me now
A shadow of a phantom

I no longer feel the warmth from my travels
And as my light fades
And I blend into the eternal, ever stretching black sheet that is our universe
I will always remember
I was once a Comet.

I get angry at you a lot these days.
Not for the drugs
Or for the intermittent appearances like a commercial during my favorite show
Or for the arguments you couldn't bother to hide from me
Or for the distaste you held for my father so ******* proudly that anyone on our block could tell you about how many near fist fights my mom had to pull you out of
Or for the times I'd find you locked away in your room crying so ******* hard you couldn't speak or look at me
Or for the times you got lost in space while I was talking to you about important things

No. Not for these beautiful moments of you in your rawest forms.
I get angry when I remember how much I ******* loved you
I get angry when I remember your favorite foods, and sounds-
I can't even ******* look at Mickey Mouse anymore without almost breaking down

I get angry because I remember how easily you could calm me down and help me regain control
Because out of EVERYONE in that household, you loved me enough to figure me out.

I get angry because I took the time to repay that respect just to have it spit in my eye
I get angry on the days I think about my childhood and remember how you smiled but not the laugh.
I get angry when I remember you telling me not to be a cry baby, each and every time those floodgates break
In fact I heard it three times when writing this

I get angry because now, as an adult
I can see myself following your foot steps
And I've never been more proud
And I can see that I've outlived you; surpassed the place you left your last mark
And I am hurt that I no longer have your portrait like footprints to guide me
I get angry that you made yourself my older sister when you saw I had no one
And that I loved you so much your death still brings me to shakes 15 years later.

I get angry because you died
And more importantly
No one said you were allowed to do that before me
And I get angry because I know that wasn't your choice
So when I picture the last time I saw that car
And imagine what it was like with you still in it
I bleed myself in your honor.

So I'll run
I'll run so ******* fast and far it'll make you think of when we used to foot race
Or when we played tag together and I was always it because you were too quick

I'll scream in rage and in fear
I'll scratch my arms and slice my fingers until my skin matches my carved out soul
I'll rip the Earth apart into nothing but my love for you
Until the day I can end this good mourning
By hearing you sing your bird like chime
"Good Morning, Get up, Let's go"

My uncle committed suicide with a scarf and a hotel room door two years ago.
I've been living right next door to a loaded gun within a toddlers grasp for almost as long.
Does it make him a better man than I if I choose to meet my end
Looking down a one way tunnel,
Or should I try to meet him half way,
And use a belt and my bedroom door?
I'm only asking so I don't **** this up
Better men than I have flowed down this path, and if there's one thing I am
It's not a Better Man.