never blooming again

We both saw clouds on a sunny day
And we both climbed the hill attempting to run away.
From dirt to plants, we dug ourselves and bloomed
But it is a fact that you either die being plucked,
Or live long enough to go to dirt, again.

Oh, we got plucked.

We got plucked by manipulations soiled by our own doing,
We split apart by the thorns residing in us.
I won’t blame you with the only one with blades,
When I know I possessed them too.

In my defense, however,
Let me please finish my words
I’m not a fool, you know.
In my defense, however,
I had my thorns hidden deep inside my skin
Bleeding until I was soaked in red
And that was all you could see of me then – bloody me.

While yours – your thorns prickled me with every
Decimal of poison it had bred all along.

Maybe, I was a fool, after all.

We spoke of bells and how the cars looked
Like ants from where we were.
But look at us now,
Look at us now standing right where we started,
Sunk in the dirt again
Where we meet the same infernal fate,
With the possibility of
Never blooming ever again.

Who knew in a world where magic doesn’t exist,
You’d be the Expelliarmus
to my Expecto Patronum.

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