soft magic.

by Upile Chisala

you are used to men half-loving you and not saying please,

you are the answer to a prayer I was too proud to pray.

your wings are made of the things they threw in your face,

she told you that respect was in movies and kind love was only in poems. and you almost believed her.

love, you wouldn’t believe all the places I thought I would find you.

I don’t want to be less of me if that’s the only way I’ll get more of you.

say no to loving a person more than they love themselves.