I’m in mourning today for my naiveté
I used to love until it hurt
and it often did
Still, I never expected its regularity
Always I aimed my arrow to the farthest horizon
the least likely and therefore the most special
When the arrow fell short, my chest emptied on soaking pillows
And then I came back for more.
Now I love like it’s going to hurt
I brace myself for what I dream to come —
My daydreams are training grounds for disappointment
Drilling my emotions for the worst ending I can fantasize
prophesize, judge, I pretend
for myself and for him
but mostly for myself
as protection because it doesn’t really mean anything so it doesn’t matter if I am crushed and beaten and blamed and hurt.
Because my dreams prepared me for reality.
Cassandra mocks me:
How can you dare presume to know the future?
How can you dare understand patterns of mortals like you and unlike you?
It is impossible for you to create the burden of all the future for every one.
Live, she spits. Just live and see.
Yes, but please have pity, Cassie
For now the deeper I love, the more I doubt.