Peer forward, past the gossamer lie you've spun in your own heart. Gaze at that translucent figure, and long for it, because you are banished. The limit has been set. No longer will you feel its gentle ministrations, no longer procure its joy. No longer will its eyes glimmer at you with fawning and adoration. It is broken. She is broken. Someday perhaps the fog will lift and the air transparent again. Someday perhaps you will touch her face with your wicked hand. Someday perhaps she will forget in her childishness. Naive girl, sweet girl, you fool. You optimistic fool, to think that anyone would see your heart the way you wish they would. They have never understood you. You are a slut and a liar and a manipulative bitch to them. They don't see the magic. They only see the fabrications. Go rot, girl.