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| The man who knelt before her would have sprung from her needles, even down the ghostly flecks of silver in his hair. She had not known before that she wanted all these things, that she preferred dark hair and a slightly cruel expression, that she wishes for tallness, or that a man kneeling might thrill her. |
i read the books
about otherwordly miracles
magic wars and sorrow
dragons and imps
dangerous adventures in nonexistent worlds
fights between gods of life and death and
all in between
and it makes me think
how ordinary my life is
and how it makes me dream and wonder
and weep
and ponder longingly why my life
differ oh so greatly from the books
not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a magical girl not a
