I wonder how I can remain with faith while everything around us is crumbling. I admit magic is hard to believe in. Why can't love be enough to fix wounds? I love you with all my soul and yet we still suffer. I curse the heavens and reject the blessed, and yet somehow I still cannot let them go. I speak to them on the bathroom floor and wait for them to use a miracle to fix me. I don't ask you to believe in my words or to trust in something that has failed you. I only ask that you look up to the stars and at the very least let their glow fall upon you, while you rest that rushing heart and know that you are loved.