👻 banishment spell no. 001: twin flame, expired

🕯️ banishment spell no. 001
(for the man who treats every lifetime like it’s just another chance to waste mine)

i tried to resurrect you.
dragged your ghost back so many times
i forgot who fucking died.

i prayed.
forgave.
lit candles.
texted like a dumbass at 11:11.
and every time—
you came back
glitching.
outdated.
wrong build.

you looked at me
like your last redemption shot,
then sprinted
like intimacy had a chainsaw.

i begged the universe to return you whole.
it sent me
your defense mechanisms
in a rvca hat and commitment issues—
still emotionally unsupervised
and acting like ghosting is growth.

so now?

i call on the spirits.
the smoke.
the salt.
and my last molecule of self-respect—

to banish you.

—

🕯️ may every “i’ve changed” rot on your tongue mid sentence.
🕯️ may your new girl clock the crazy
by the third “wyd” and the second red flag.
🕯️ may your ego short-circuit every time she asks
what your daughter’s name is.
🕯️ may your avoidant attachment style
be your only ride or die.

—

this isn’t heartbreak.
this is a surgical extraction.

you are my twin flame.
but you’re also a recurring trauma symptom
in carhartt and cowardice.
a walking what-if
with no resurrection clause.

🕯️ may every “i’m different now”
choke you out mid-text.
🕯️ may the next time you feel real love—
you stay.
and may she still leave.

—

i cut the cord.
from my nervous system.
from my bloodline.
from every karmic timeline
you tried to follow me into.

you’re not an unfinished story.
you’re a brutal lesson learned
in the book i’m finally closing.

🕯️🕯️🕯️