People always say "be careful what you wish for, because you might just get it."
I wished, and I got, and all too soon, I regretted.
It's been months and the memory of it still makes me feel something twisted.
I want to scream at him to tell the truth.
I want to hide my face and forget him.
I want to sit in a quiet spot and whisper all these things to him and see how he reacts.
Because the memory of getting what I want is all consuming-like the vines that grow in Georgia.
It's out of place, but it's taking over.
It wraps itself so tight around my heart that I'm numb and covered in it.
It weaves in and out of my head until the ground beneath me is tinted green through the leaves.
It's been months but the memory has taken root in my chest and it winds itself around my rib-cage until I can't think straight and my breath feels shallow and painful.
And his name hurts like a thorn as it gets stuck in my throat.
I stopped wishing after him, after the wishes came true and turned into nightmares and now I feel like Sleeping Beauty awake in the castle but trapped by the thorns.
A space for me to empty my brain of all the poems, letters, and half-finished stories that swirl around in my head all day.
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