Juniper & Thorn

by Ava Reid

Of course my wanting would doom its object. Of course anything I desired would become a black snake in my hand.

But no one had ever told me that I was allowed to scream.

Whatever the cause, I could only try to guard that small, ruined piece of myself, administer to it carefully without encouraging it to grow, until it could be lulled to a gentle death. I would not allow it to be fed any longer.