The pagan says (a poem)

i went downtown; to the pagan side, and purchased a sit down with a psychic.

she said your name,

and now i've not been able to sleep for two days.

that was it, with the psychic,

a look of worry for my troubling inquiries. 

it's been a while since i'd thought of you, it's been a while since i'd seen a shade of blue or any purple hues, 

but the psychic said your name & now i'm afraid. 

afraid to face the lingering moments like shattered glass or toxic perfumes, 

afraid of being anywhere near you. 

I went downtown to the pagan shop again late Tuesday & paid a sit down with the psychic. 

He scried & threw runes & asked of you.

He asked if I'd been seeing the blues or the purple hues, if i'd received the message from the ghost of you