"Houdini You Are Not"

 

 

Someone ought to tell you,

you are not a very good

magician.

 

Because your magic only

lasts-so-long, and then I'm

out the door, in a burst of

mist, I'm gone, vanished.

 

If you had the power to

keep me, would you?

Would you make me your

partner, or just your handy

assistant?

 

I've grown weary of your parlor tricks.

 

You pull out these lies out of your

hat, like a dozen miniature, furry

Peter Cottontails. And you do so

with ease, with perfection, with

intent.

 

And if once I found you handsome

in your coat and tails, now I see how

much the clothes do not make the man.

But they do hide him and his wicked

ways.

 

Gentlemen caller, my a*s.

 

There isn't a feat grand enough to keep

me here, anymore. No wand, or misdirection

will make me believe in you.

 

I don't believe in you, anymore.

 

Not in your spells, or your speeches,

not in your words, or your charm

and certainly not in your magic.

 

That old fantasy died hard, in me.

And nothing, nothing on this earth

or the next, will ever bring it back

to life.

 

 

A pity that you should disturb the dead.

 

 

For Harry is probably tossing-in-his-grave.

 

 

Reviews

[she makes me weird]

This is a wonderful piece. I especially enjoyed the 5th part "you pull out these lies...with perfection, with intent." Those words ring with truth for so many situations. Very well pieced together.

[Dawn Jones]

I dont think any of them can keep up their magic tricks for very long. If they could strong souls like you and I would be incapable of growing in our strength and we would be like most women of the world, caught in a web of lies. This boys magic was not for you. But there is one out there. I know it. Lovely write, very angry.