Three of Pentacles
&
The Star Reversed
you’ve manifested magick in the mundane,
but it is still
only 6:22 p.m.
on a Thursday
a gateway to sugar—
a poached void —
mimes a barren sternum
this is just your heart trying to get comfortable inside your chest
in short,
in essence—
in all the words I try to say to make this sound\\\\ ornate
you are headed the right direction
you are always encouraged to articulate
you are built for self-destruction
you are built to clean up the mess you made
Notes of a Dirty Young Woman 