Today, I am a shell of myself - empty, used up. Nothing to give. All that I had, taken. Or given up thoughtlessly, without regard for my soul.
Yesterday, I was lighter. A butterfly, taking her erratic flight on a gentle breeze. Not caring where it took her.
Tomorrow? Who can say? It is a mystery for now. Maybe magical and wondrous. Perhaps ordinary and unexceptional. No doubt, it will be whatever I choose for it to be.
May I choose magic.
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