Magic is magic. It is all around us. Some never sense it. Others know how strong it can become. To the witch. Magic is magic. Both light and dark. Two types but both are one. Some separate them. Those witches use one over the other. To witches like me that do both. Magic is magic. It is not to be separate from each other. Magic both light and dark are one. Cause magic is magic.
Wounds of the heart. Are worse than visible scars. These are wounds that can tear you apart. Wounds of the heart will make you cry. It will have you even question yourself why. These wounds are not visible scars. For these wounds here are wounds of the heart.
Scars unknown and unseen. Ones that run so very deep. Hidden pain buried so far. Deeper than the scars on my arms. Emotional battles everyday creep. Very bad thoughts that may even scare me. Wounds of the heart. Go so much deeper than the scars on my arms.
Emotional pain crying under the covers. Awake every night wondering why I must suffer. These are wounds and scars that run deeper. Flashbacks are rough. Life can be tough. But some pains are even greater. They are wounds and scars that run deeper.
One hundred cuts and one too deep. All they can do is watch me bleed. Into the back of the ambulance. On the way to the hospital. Problem was they were too late. Now I am classified as dead on arrival.
I sit alone in my room thinking. Why does this always happen to me? Why is the struggle so fucking hard? And my self-worth torn apart? Now I know, and the reason is me. For the struggle is hard, but I've torn my self-worth apart.