Magic man by Ollie

Magic man

Mr. magic man has been doing magic since he was just a boy,
I should know I was his assistant!
He seems all wonderful you know,
He could make things disappear,
He could make coins fly out his mouth!
Of course I didn’t know that being his assistant would have such an awful cost.

The magician hid his face behind flowers and magic tricks,
He bewildered me with all of the things I never heard of.
He would show me video games,
He would have the answer to every question,
And even if the answer never made sense,
He would be right,
He would always be right,
At least that’s what he said.

He hid behind a facade of colorful scarves,
So he could trail me to his room and told me if I practice a new trick,
I could be his assistant forever,
his favorite in fact.

Of course I agreed,
What an awful choice I made,
But who was I to know what would be the cost?

So we did this thing,
And it was a trick,
But not a magic one,
Rather a tragic one.

One that led to my murder,
And my only witness was blind,
I tried to tell before I died,
But the jury was deaf,
And the magician was just a boy,
“Aww pity him,
He just wants to try a new trick,
It’s not like he’ll do it again.”
So along with myself,
my voice,
And my story died with me,
And shoveled into a shallow grave,
And everyone had to pretend I was still alive,
And the ghost of that sweet child still haunts what’s left of me.

Maybe we didn’t do the trick right,
Maybe we should try again?
He agreed,
But this time I’m scared.
This one,
This one hurt,
Although I don’t remember it,
I still know it hurt,
I just do.

The magician’s illusion faded,
He was no longer a magical boy who knew everything,
But now he was a magical boy who knew every way to hurt me and get away,
Knowing that I wouldn’t say.
He was right,
He was always right.

And now the only flowers of his that bloom,
are the ones on my wrist in the springtime.
And the only kind of scarf that he can show me,
Are the thorns that spring out of the ground and hold me a prisoner in this body.
And the only thing now that flies from his lips,
Are the words of acid,
Eating away at your skin like hungry beasts who haven’t seen food in weeks.

He may have lied about a lot of things,
But isn’t that the job of the magician?
To make you believe in a fantasy,
To break the foundation of your reality until the only piece of it left are the lies that fly from his lips.
And you consume those lies like they are the sweetest candy,
Though it tastes bitter,
The magician swears that once you trust him it will be sweet.

He may have lied about almost everything,
But one thing was for sure,
I am his assistant,
Whether I want to be or not,
Whether he still uses me or doesn’t,
It’s already too late,
Nothing will ever be the same,
Not for me.

If only I knew the cost of being a magician’s fantasy,
But now I see,
Mr magic man has been doing magic since he was just a boy,
I should know I was his assistant.

by Ollie