Dear Karma,

I’m listening. I’m here and I’m hearing.

Your words aren’t slow enough for me to interpret with bias, so they’re thrown hard. And land soft. Embrace but rarely puncture my soul.

We already know this.

We’ve had a million opportunities the universe has shown us.

Time isn’t a thing, I think,

but I know the present doesn’t care about the future based on our past.

Past it all, we moved past it all, not even a fall - a wreck of things we could control - would change the spell I put on your soul.

Sifted through pain,

a broadcast of your name,

a misuse of our game,

a poor attempt at shifting blame.

You’ll always be mine,

but our bond will never be the same.