My family is very superstitious. I don't know if it's an Irish thing, or a born-in-the-mid-ish-20th-century thing, or just an us thing, but it's just the way we are. I get told off for putting new shoes on tables and I'm told to count crows and I touch wood and wish on birthday candles and eyelashes and dandelions and stars.
And I laugh at my mammy when she calls me a faerie or says hello to magpies out the window or panics when salt gets spilled, but sometimes I think like that too.
Because I swear I saw faeries in the orchard at Nan's and on the afternoon of the thirty-first of August there were two crows sitting on the gate when I got home.
And sometimes I think I can feel the Universe. And It's doing a hell of a good job.
And I think that I would have just kept running into you until something happened because it meant something. And you can break my heart and I won't mind because it's all so exciting. (but pls dont bc i've gotten attached to ya now). And your eyes light up the whole world.
So here's to stolen hearts.
Here's to the dreams.
Here's to you, because I'm always gonna love you.
alice 19.10.27
YOU ARE READING
pretentious drivel // short stories, poems, and the usual c**p
Randoma collection of short stories, poems, and general sh*te. don't have high expectations. please note some of these are old as h*ck and don't apply to me any more, i might just think they're good. // cover art by pascal campion //
