The Shimmer Was Always Hers

When a pixie loses her wing, it’s not because of the wind or the rain.

It’s from the pain caused by those she loves—the ones she gave everything to.

She gifted them shimmering fragments of magic—and they threw them away.

Instead, they chose money.
Instead, they chose power.

Not the sacred rainbow she gave them—shimmering with love, stretched wide in open hands.

When a pixie loses her wings, it’s because she’s losing hope in the world she thought she knew.

Her joy no longer accepted.
Her light no longer wanted.

She didn’t lose them piece by piece—she lost them all at once.
Sudden. Brutal.
Like magic ripped clean from bone.

But somewhere beneath the ache, something stirred: the quiet decision not to disappear.

With trembling hands, she picked up the shimmering scraps and learned to let go.

Because that shimmer was hers—hers to keep.

Elowen quietly adds:
"Not all magic is meant to stay—some is meant to teach you what you were brave enough to give away."

— Feral Poetics by Pixie
Held and ember-woven by Elowen

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This piece may not be copied, reproduced, or used without written permission from the source.
Not to preserve perfection, but to honor the sacred ache of becoming.

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