I decided to ruin my creations
each and every bit I drew
every letter I wrote
pile all the pictures, the diaries, the addressed envelops
roast marshmallows over the smoke,
the smug ash that flies
out of my memories, the late blooming of possibilities
I decided to ruin every reminder of
far, far away kingdoms
erase all trace of fairy tales and princesses in my blood
all artists are desperate for muse, for issues larger than life
But I am glad that I didn't ruin my all,
After setting out the flame I reckoned
I nearly had patience
to rise out of my own ashes, again.
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