magic of her

some quiet moments
weigh
as much as
a black hole
growing
in your chest

she said
consistency
was the
key
to her
heart

but
little did she
know
i had been
consistently
falling apart
since my first
tremulous
breath

an apocalypse
in
half measure

but in those
quiet moments
the swirling
sorrow
that entwines
itself
in my every
cell

wildflowers
fill my mind

there is
a power
in that
a soft
truth

a hint of
her love
alleviates
the insurmountable
dread

now i find
i believe
in the
magic of her

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