Marco?
Where have you gone?
Marco?
Is something wrong?
Marco?
Why aren't you answering me?

Polo.
I never left my dear.
Polo.
I'm standing right here.
Polo.
Why aren't you listening to me?

Marco?
Are you close to me?
Polo.
Open your eyes and see.

Marco?
I'm feeling for you.
Polo.
I'm reaching towards you.

Marco?
Why don't you meet me half way?
Polo.
You're too far away.

Marco?
You're not hearing me.
Polo.
You're not listening.

Marco?
Polo.
Marco?
Polo...
Marco?
Marco?
...Marco?

Tilt and tumble down the slide.
Why not go two at a time?
Link your tubes! Enjoy the ride!
Run and jump into the pool.
Dive head first! You're so cool.
Safety is a stupid rule,
So why must you abide?

Say you don't know how to swim?
That's all right, jump on in!
That's the best way to begin.
Floaties are the best solution--
Swimming's equal substitution.
But hey, you drowning helps our evolution!
Too bad I'm your guardian.

Darkness comes and clouds roll in
and thus a thunderstorm begins.
Suddenly there is a flash,
a booming jolt and then a clash.
From the evil, looming clouds
raindrops fall, smacking loud.
The big, bad storm causes quite the fuss;
children scream and parents cuss.
The TV screens have all gone black
and people find it's light they lack.

I often dream of pretty things
with unhealthy fascination.
I often go where you can't follow,
craving isolation.
I haven't found a footing sound
in this here habitation.
So I find life's sweeter side
in my imagination.

This poem is short; Not much to say.
Yet still the need to say something anyway.

These buses sound like dinosaurs
With screeching brakes and engine roars

Her eyes were wet.
Her soul: a wreck.
There was no fixing her heart.
She fell to her knees,
Unable to breath,
And finally fell apart.

You don't want me.
How could you?
You don't need me.
Why would you?
But you won't leave me
Like you should.

I want you.
To quit your fun with me--
I need you.
To be done with me--
I can't leave you.
So you need to run--

I measure myself
Just as you taught me:
I press against walls
So that they can mark me;
I stand next to others
And look up or look down;
I stare at reflections
Until imperfections are found.
I measure and measure,
I poke and I ****--
Until that which is measured
Is depleted and gone.

Hello, Romeo
Tip-toe, So slow
Bellow from below
Slay foe, Must go
Can't know of love though
Death glow
Such woe
You go, solo
Oh no!
Follow with fatal blow
End Show

Tried to beat it
But I couldn't
Tried to hide it
But it wouldn't stay in the corner
Where I put it
So now I hide myself

I'll be like the wetlands
I'll take the brunt
When the storm rolls in
Let the flood wash
across
my skin
I know how to survive being drowned
So I'll stand my ground

They told you you're a white knight,
To take pride in your long sword.
Now you've mounted your noble stead
And it's me you're headed towards.

They told me I'm a damsel.
Made me feel distressed.
Then you came waltzing in,
Shiny armor on your chest.

You want to slay my dragon;
Stick it to the foe.
You think I'm waiting here for help,
But I'm screaming, "please just go!!"

My tower isn't lonely.
That dragon is my friend.
So desist your constant jabbing:
It's annoyance with no end.

Don't try and kiss me when I'm sleeping.
Keep your hands off of my feet.
I don't need your so called valor
To make my life complete.

And you, dear prince, don't need to charm me--
You are more than how you wield your weapon.
Fair maidens needn't be your quest--
They'll tell you different--the trick is not to let them.

Four walls.
No door.
A roof.
A floor.
Trapped inside.
It shrinks in size.
Smaller now.
There’s no way out.
I cannot think.
I cannot breath.
Dark and cold.
All alone.

One does not simply write little sonnets
Like my English teacher wants me to do.
My mind wanders to tales of hobbits
And wish I were writing simple Haikus.
Old men, so bored, had to make this stuff up.
Iambs, pentameter, all lost on me.
And some rhyming pattern I’m forcing: sup?
Simply stated, it is not how I think.
Trying to be clever while writing this,
With some deeper meaning that is unknown,
Though—tortured soul I am missing and wish
That that Shakespeare would have left it alone.
But I suppose that’s why he’s important
And all my poems come off as abhorrent.

In my throat, there is a lump.
I'm on the edge, about to jump.
The wind rushes across my face
where I keep the scars I can't erase.
The tears are gone; they're all dried up.
My only choice is to jump.

Live and let live.
Live and let it go.
There's something I can't ask you.
Something I need to know.
Your memory is still haunting--
But it's not your ghost that moans.
It's the phantom of what you slayed when
You left me on my own.
You couldn't let it live.
I can't let it go.
I want to ask you why--
But I don't want to know.

I am distant.
Like the stars.
I burn slowly,
I burn dully,
You will see me only
If you take the time to stare.
For I am the kind of light you might
Not even know is there.

Cup your hands around me--
But very softly--
Leave some space,
Not too tightly.
Just enough to halt the penetrating light.
Peek between the gaps,
See if you might glimpse
The faintest glow of... something?
Just against your fingertips.

Obtained at a time of whimsical fancy.
Stuck to the ceiling/wall whilst chasing youth.
Left to be there--
Near forgotten--
Just another fixture in the room.
But when the light has grown weak,
Lying there, cannot sleep,
Mind too full to count sheep:
I'm here for you to affix your eyes.

A reminder of who you once were
And who you'll never be again
And who you are.
A symbol for... for cosmos
And questions and answers
And stars.
All within a glow.
Which, in any other circumstance,
Wouldn't even show.

This is the light I have to offer:
All that I can be.
And I can give you something simple,
Subtle magic,
But only if you stop to see.
Only when the lights are off,
The sun is gone,
The dark opaque.
Only then: you'll see my glow.
Even then: it's faint.

Not for wild celebration--
But rather quite contemplation.
A moment for yourself.
A moment to look in.
A quite moment in the dark:
That is what I am.

I cannot guide the way.
I will never light the room.
Won't break the darkness,
Lead the masses,
Assist a flowered bloom.
Please don't ask me to.
Please don't expect me to.
But, if you let me,
I can glow in the dark for you.

Somewhere different,
Somewhere new.
Lead the way;
I'll follow you.

Down the road
to the stream.
We'll jump the brooke
to chase our dreams.
We're as far as
we have been;
This is where
it all begins.
It is late,
the sun has gone.
But the moon will
guide us on.
Into the woods
we wander still.
We are scared
but we are thrilled.
Our path is rough,
ill-defined.
We're headed nowhere--
we don't mind.

Someday we will
settle,yes.
Lay our ambitions
down to rest.
Find comfort
in security,
in a home
and family.
And though I look forward
to this fate,
I'm in no rush
to reach that state.

There's still so much
I want to see.
I'll take the lead;
You follow me.

Lost in the fictions I didn't write myself;
Stuck in the stories up on the shelf.
Exploring the spaces between the lines,
The images swirling inside my mind.
And it's an addiction, the emotions compelled:
I'm wrapped up, consumed by their endless spell.
Please never rescue me from my delusions,
And may these tales never reach their conclusions.
If the fantasy realms and other dimensions
Cease to be, I would disappear with them.
For I am a composite of fandom and myth,
Without which, I'm sure, I couldn't exist.
So leave me to drown here in legends and fables,
The sagas and series-- all lands with no equals.
The characters conjured: imaginative haunts--
But the feelings they give are the best that I've got.
Don't save this damsel for I'm not distressed;
Just leave me to wander through some fictional quest.
If I cannot fit in the world that's created
Then leave me to die here between the pages.

If I could be happy,
I'm sure I'd be happy with you.

But I've been crying my heart out
for so long now,
I don't know how not to.

As my mind begins to wonder,
I am compelled to wander;
Going ever further,
The distance ever farther.

Color me happy
Color me wise
Color in colors
Only seen through your eyes

Color in scribbles
Color outside the lines
Color a picture
That is quite unlike mine

I didn't give up!
I just didn't adjust
To the stakes getting higher;
Fuel thrown on the fire.
Now I burn away,
But am I to blame?
I'm not the one fanning the flames.
But I'm just standing, unmoving,
Not shouting or screaming.
Perhaps I'm compliant.
Perhaps I'm just dreaming.

And perhaps it is better:
Reduced into embers,
Crushed into ashes,
Scattered on the wind.
Not giving up, but
Perhaps giving in?
Say what you may:
Weak, brave.
I'm in no position
To reject your opinion,
But, if you're asking me,
I wouldn't mind being lost to the breeze.

I sit alone
with my thoughts.
I tried to run,
but I got caught.
Turns out I'm not
great company.
That's why
no one is here with me.

Darkness, now, taking flight--
Scattered by the coming light.
Frightened by the rising sun,
Watching as the shadows run.

Secrets stumble off your lips--
Into patient ears your hushed words slip.
It starts with friends but ends with foes,
Watching as the secrets go.

Simple solids breed fearful air--
Our own breath blown into terror.
Onto the ignorant the facade stumbles,
Watching as the whole world crumbles.

Tracing constellations,
Across a dark abyss
A simple line, 'cross space and time
Making sense of rifts

A twinkle in our pupils:
Ancient light well traveled
But while we gaze through earthly haze
The universe unravels

Catch me in catastrophe
Tossed in turbulent debris
Dangling so dangerously
Forgetting how to flee

The ground shakes beneath my feet--
Rattling me to the core.
I reach out to grasp your hand,
But you aren't standing there any more
My eyes slip slowly open--
They've been closed for a long time.
I look around at the place we loved,
The place you left behind.

Everything has fallen down.
Everything is broken now.
And in my heart I know,
It is time for me to go.

I pack up all our memories
But am perplexed to find
That all they do is weigh me down--
Shall I leave them behind?
I try to walk, to start my journey
To somewhere far away--
But my feet refuse to move;
I'm clinging to my yesterdays.

The emptiness surrounds me.
The pain of it astounds me.
And I'm not crying because you're gone,
I'm crying because I can't move on.

Long and dusty, small dirt road
Leading somewhere I don't know.
Could just be a dead end;
Have to turn around, come back again.
Someday my steps I might retrace;
Someday end up back in this place,
Greet old friends I left behind,
Put small back roads out of my mind.
But, today, that's not what I need.
Nowhere's where I need to be.
And if this road doesn't turn me back around
I'll find somewhere else to settle down.

I dreamt about you last night--
But that’s no shock.
Been dreaming 'bout you since you left--
And that’s not about to stop.
I tried getting you out of my system.
Tried sending these feelings on their way.
But I still hate you. And love you.
Perhaps that'll never change.
You will always be burned into my memory,
Until someone finally ***** this life right out of me.

Everybody says so.
Nobody knows though.
Some just think so.
But what the hell do they know?

This little trifle with the devil
Has got me all ******* in knots.
I called out to the angels--
Never did get a response.

They are shrouded in the veil
Of evils justified,
But out here we are fighting
Because there is nowhere to hide.

I'm left battered and bruised
And utterly confused,
For what was once important
Is now insignificant and obtuse.

Take your time.
Please don't rush.
Sleep on it
if you must.
Don't decide
based on lust.
'Cause, if you do,
I'll be crushed.
So take your time
and please don't rush.

I need to know
that you stopped
and put in
some decent thought,
listed the pros
and the cons,
weighed the rights
and the wrongs.

Give this decision
thought and time
even if you don't
change your mind.
You hold my life
in your hands:
all my dreams,
all my plans.

Take your time.
Please don't rush.
Sleep on it
if you must.
Don't decide
based on lust.
'Cause, if you do,
I'll be crushed.
So take your time
and please don't rush.

Directors and playwrights:
Puppet-masters pulling strings.
With an ending clearly written
A divergence is unseen.
Lines rehearsed,
Movements blocked,
Costumes sewn,
A table of props.
Each piece dependent on the other,
With trust that each will stick
To the parts neatly rehearsed,
To the lines within the script.
And it is wondrous entertainment
For an evening in the dark,
Where the set is just a fiction,
Each player, just a part.
But I'm not here for your enjoyment.
I'm not here to play along.
With the conflicts you've determined;
With your solutions to these wrongs.
I know my lines, I read them.
I know my steps, I've walked them.
But these lines, you wrote them.
And these steps, you blocked them.
How can I accomplish
Something different, something new
When I am following in footsteps
Conjured up by you?
It'll leave my company scrambling
To get us back on course--
But I have no desire
In the destination forced.
And if the set begins to crumble--
And the illusion is dispelled--
And all others break from character--
And the misconceptions that they held,
Then certainly my disruptions
Would not have been in vain,
When something new arises
On the stage that still remains.

Look at me-- I occupy
The world that they all left behind.
This world is now an empty one.
But there's still water. There's still sun.

The stars do not shine as bright,
But I've come to enjoy dark nights.
I can still see the ground
As I try to move around.

I'm still here. And I'm still fine.
With them gone, this world is mine.
Everything still works the same.
No need for everything to change.

I hear them whisper, "it won't last long.”  
Won't you help me prove them wrong?

No time to sleep.
Too broke to eat.
Into my books
I start to weep.
Said I could be
anything:
Go out! Go forth!
Chase your dreams!
Except I ****
at calculus,
and who the hell
is Romulus?
I need two jobs
to pay the rent;
An exponential
growth of debt.
They say, "go get
an internship,"
but with pre-reqs
I'm not equipped.
Need to study,
everyday--
'less I throw
my whole life away!
Volunteer!
Try something new!
Stop giving me
more things to do!
I'm up to my knees.
My waist. My chin!
Not sure if I
know how to swim.
Will this ordeal
ever desist?
Or I am going to
die like this?

Time goes on, and things--they pass.
Nothing's ever built to last.
I will leave, and so will you.
Out with the old and in with the new!  
Just one thing before you leave--
I need to ask you, pretty please--
I know that you're moving on,
Just don't forget me when you're gone.

Hello friend, how have you been?
I don't think I'll ever see you again.
And I'm not sure if I ever want to.
Ask me again in a few years time.

I know it is because of you
That I am where I am.
It is because of you that I ever learned to swim.
It is because of you I learned how to survive.
But only because you left me there to die.

But you were young;
We both were young.
So I don't blame you.
I try not to.
And yet,
I still blame you a little bit.
Maybe a lot a bit.
I am ambivalent.

I am torn between
Thanking you for
What you did for me and
Hating you for
What you did to me.

But I have been thinking about you a lot lately.
Not of you, I guess.
I don't really remember you.
But of me.
I've been thinking of me
And what I use to be.

I have changed so much
Since you left;
Because you left.
Not in anyway you would notice.
I still act the same.
And look the same.
Still the socially awkward,
A little bit hefty,
Un-styled.
Perhaps I'm unaltered. Physically at least.
But I love myself.
And that makes all the difference.

But I am also more timid.
More sheepish and reluctant
To speak up, to say things, to try things.
And that's because you scared me.
And that fear, it scarred me.

I am not sure why you left.
I have an idea. A pretty good guess.
But I never asked and you never said.
And that question, the reason, it still hangs there
Between us.
Between all these miles.
Between all this time.

Did you know that this year,
This August,
It marks the sixth year?
We were only friends for five.
In the eleven years I've known you
I have been missing you,
Hating you,
You have been a somebody I use to know
Longer than you have ever been my friend.
And that seems significant.

But maybe my math is wrong.
Maybe I shouldn't stop counting in August.
Maybe I should stop in May.
Earlier? You tell me.
When did you really leave?
Either way, the fact remains.

And I don't hate you,
Not really.
Whoever you are now is not who you were.
And your decision,
Regardless of reason,
Left me for the better.

Eventually it did, at least,
But it took a long time.
And even now, even here,
Where and when I love myself,
I love my friends,
I love my life.
Even here, even now,
I still remember you.
I still bear the scars.
And I still wonder what was wrong with me.
Why don't I ever ask what was wrong with you?

I'll never ask you for the reason.
I'll never tell you how it felt.
Maybe you already know.
Maybe you don't.
I'll never ask even though it still haunts me,
Even though you're still haunting.
Because I know you couldn't tell me straight.
Just like I couldn't tell you straight.
I can't even tell myself straight.

There is no straight line between cause and effect;
No logical conclusion from all that has happened.
You are a reason I am where I am,
That I am who I am,
And I was who I was.
But not the only one.

It is a mash up of tragedies
And comedies
And dramas
And fantasies.
It's life.
And in the grand scheme, you won't matter.
What you did won't matter.

I'm sure it doesn't matter to you.
I don't think you think of me.
I don't think you have been counting the years,
The moments.
I don't think you've cried.
I don't think you have wondered what you might say
If we ever ran into each other.
I don't think you would know to apologize.

And if I never cross your mind,
If you don't think of me when making new friends,
When meeting new people,
Or when you read a new book
And really love it (even though it's stupid),
Or when you need someone to go to a midnight premier with you,
If you don't remember me,
If you don't remember you when we were us,
If you never wonder what if,
If you never cried about what happened,
Then I don't want your apology.
Because it would be empty.

Not because you don't mean it.
Maybe you would mean it.
Maybe you have had a lot of time to reflect.
Maybe you regret it.
Maybe you don't.
But if you haven't felt what I have felt,
If your life went on with no diversion,
Then any apology you might have to offer me
Would echo in the abyss of my what if,
While my forgiveness could never echo in yours.
Because you wouldn't have one.
And the lack of somewhere to put my forgiveness
Means the apology you gave to me never took up any space.
And it will just echo a few times,
Weakening as it bounces,
Until finally dying out
With no sign it was ever there.
Is that what I was to you? An echo?

And I am sure you don't imagine that the decision you made,
That decision to leave,
Could have ever had such a long lasting ripple.
That I would ever remember
Or fixate
Or cry about it
For this long.
I don't know why you are still on my mind.
I know that I want you gone.

I want to forget,
And to get over it.
For it to be something stupid
That happened when I was young.
Like losing a friend because we didn't have the same favorite color.
But six years later
I still remember.
It still hurts not knowing why.
And it is only within the last two years
That I no longer cry.

And, as much as I wish it didn't,
It matters.
As much as I wish I didn't,
I care.

And I have thought many times about what I would say
If I ever saw you standing there:
I would first try to hide,
But if you saw me I would smile.
Probably say hi.
And if you did nothing more than smile back,
If you didn't ask me how things were or how I've been,
I wouldn't ask you and just let you walk away.
The question. The reason.
Still hanging.

And if you did ask I would tell you,
But only the basic details,
Not any of the real meaning behind them.
And I would return with polite questions of my own
And we would part with kind words.
Just like nothing ever happened at all.
The question. The reason.
Still hanging.

And I would regret not doing
Or asking
Or saying anything more.
But I would also know that, if I could do it again,
I wouldn't change a thing.
There is nothing more I need
Or want
Or seek
From you.
I don't want the truth.
Not now.

Because I don't remember you.
You are just a face and a name I put to a change,
To a time in my life I cannot forget.
And who you are now
And who you were then,
It doesn't matter in my story.
Only what you did.

And this poem
Or this letter
Or whatever this has become,
It is not for you.
It is for me.
Because your memory persists
In all my rhymes and relationships.
You persist in all the books
And poems I read
And movies I see
And friends I meet.
I think of you and cry for you and write of you,
Even though I don't want to.
Because you represent my greatest fear:
Being rejected for all that I cannot change about myself.

You are a reason I am where I am,
That I am who I am now.
And I don't forgive you.
I don't think you need me to.
Though, I thank you anyhow.
But I hope I'll never see you again.
I hope you see me,
Happy and healthy and wonderful,
And regret, even just a little bit,
That you gave up any opportunity of knowing me,
Even just a little bit.

And if by some miracle,
Or disaster,
These words ever find you,
If you ever read this,
I am sure it will confuse you.
Because I am sure you do not remember as I do.
Or hurt as I do.
And that's why I hate you.
Or rather hate the idea of you.
Because you just walked away and left me to deal with the consequences.
My world was upended.
And six years later I am not okay.
What you did was not okay.

And I don't know how to end this.
I'm not sure if I have more to say.
Or if I have said too much.
Or if what I said is all meaningless anyway.
I don't wish you well,
But I don't wish you ill.
And though I still think about you
It is not really you I am thinking about.
You are a stranger now.
You have been for a long time.
And I feel for you just as I feel for any random stranger,
Perhaps even less,
Because I actively try to feel nothing at all.

So I'll say to you now what you never said.
Not sure why, but
There was an entire conversation we never had,
Though I know how it would have ended,
What I would have said if given the chance:
Goodbye.

Tame the river,
build a dam.
Plow your fields,
control the land.
Build your homes
and towns and roads;
Tell the river
where to flow.

Man is stronger.
Man is smarter.
You know this to be true.
So the challenge the Earth
with all your forces;
Show her what Man can do.

Boundaries don't mean anything;
Not up against Man's machines.
Mountains crumble,
deserts bend
to Man's will,
means to an end.

Shatter the forests.
Suppress the tides.
Tear the soil.
Rip the skies.
Concrete kingdoms--
build a perch
from which you'll watch
as you destroy the Earth.

You show the Earth
what Man can do.
You make her better
but jokes on you.
For Earth is the substance
from which you're made.
If you poison the world
you won't be unscathed.

The Earth is old and wise
and patient.
The Earth will persist
even if you don't make it.

I was wrong to
assume
that you would be fine
when I left you
I had to
leave you behind
I regret
each step
I took towards the door
but you just waved
un-phased
said nothing more
how should I know
when I go
you fall apart
you never told me
darling
that I had your heart

You speak to me in flowered words
I suckle their sweet nectar
Lured in by colored verse
But gone by late September

Door slams-- it wasn't me
Echo of a memory

Haunted past means haunted home
Down the halls the spirits roam

Shadows dance across these walls
Screams running down the halls

Demons whisper in my head
Monsters play beneath the bed

Skeletons in closets
Make for restless ghosts
To all my long lost nightmares
I am now playing host

Nobody, nobody
knows what to do.
Life is a mystery
that we wander through--
gathering hints
and interpreting clues.
But nobody, nobody
knows what is true.

I don't need to prove to him
Who and what I truly am
I don't need to prove to you
All that I know I can do

And yet,
I still want to

If there is a life after this--
One in which you could somehow
Look back upon the ones you left,
Observe by looking down--
If this world you can still see
Would you watch over me?

If in death your soul persists,
And your memories remain--
And you can recall your favorite color,
your favorite food, your name--
If you can remember who you use to be
Would you think of me?

If being dead, to the deceased,
Is just like a nap, except unending--
A swim through the subconscious
As the soul is ascending--
If you simply slip to sleep
Would you dream of me?

If dying means to stop existing--
No soul or ghost or whatever else--
One simply fades into nothing,
No resonating sense of one's self,
If you only persist in memories--false or true--
Would I remember you?

I'm the one who must stare
At the image in the mirror--
See the stranger standing there.
I'm the one who must stick
Through the thick and thin of it--
Can't leap overboard when you're the ship.
Somehow I must get along;
I may be mad. I may be wrong.
Regardless, I must soldier on.

And you have choices. As do I.
We can judge the way I try,
Manipulate and justify.
Over there you can stand,
Chastise and reprimand.
On a high horse, wield command.
But when you trot away from this,
I'll still have to live with it.
No space in this relationship.

So I will twist and bend your facts.
Moral high ground: counteract.
Reshuffle so no longer stacked.
It's not from malice or a grudge
That I change the story for the judge--
You must believe: it is out of love.
A love for myself that I must maintain--
For you can always walk away,
But, good or bad, I must remain.

His eyes are locked on you,
Daring you to flinch.
Everybody's starring,
But you cannot give an inch.
Everything you have--
Everything that matters--
Has  been melted down and made
Into your armor, now battered.
The fight for him is just for sport,
A way to gain some scraps of honor.
The fight for you is for a life--
Consequences far more dire.
You cannot turn and run,
There is no option of surrender.
The loss of souls or souls conserved
Won't be how victory is measured.
Neither choice would end this fight.
You're fighting everyday.
And ending confrontation
Won't take that fight away.
The odds are stacked against you,
You'll die before the fighting's done.
But you will stand your ground
Even if you're the only one.
For it wasn't choice that put you here
But rather unlucky birth.
And this fight will take your life
Even if that's not what it's worth.

The funny thing about a fairytale is
that there is only one princess—
only one or two heroes reaping the spoils
and life pretty much ***** for the rest.
As time has made me privy to this phenomenon,
I think that the pessimists must be wrong:
pointing out the falsehoods in the fantasies
when life has been a fairytale all along.
The problem doesn't lie in the fanciful plot,
or the neat and tidy "happily ever after”—
but rather in our assumptions that we are the protagonists
when there are so many other characters whose live's are disasters.
And truly the stories of the villains or helpers,
though exaggerated in their own right,
ring of far more truth and parallels
than the lead's perilous plight.
For I am no breathtaking beauty.
Won't stop some prince in his tracks.
I can't dance, I don't clean, my food is no good,
and when I sing my voice gargles and cracks.
I often can't find a shoe that will fit
for my toes are too long, or perhaps it's my heel.
So I can't identify with the hero written
because I have no idea how that feels.
It seems that when I went to audition,
though my intent was for the part of the lead,
the director thought I was joking
and then casted me as the Evil Queen.
For I'm afraid that I more closely mimic
An ugly stepsister or morally unsound witch—
so is it any wonder, then,
that life turned out to be a *****?
And I know—yes, I know—that these stories are just that:
fictional weavings of a life never lived,
spoon fed to children to teach them some lesson,
their intent, I’m sure, not to misgive.
But at some point the stories become more than just stories;
they are born from us and so us they do bear.
And you and I and us and them and this
is a reflection of what's written there.
And if this is so, which I argue it is,
then the fairytales are very true indeed.
And so, too, the happy endings, hero's journey,
villains and monsters and thieves.
Every story is an entire world,
and every world becomes our own.
And there simply isn't enough room for us all
to fall in love and call a castle home.
Someone has to be the villain.
Someone the foil. Someone the friend.
Someone the helper and someone the lover.
Someone that person that meets an untimely end.
But someone gets to be that princess.
Someone gets that "happily ever after."
One in a story forges ahead
with a chipper "the end" in the final chapter.
And to some, perhaps, this is good enough?
A small glimmer of hope that helps them to sleep.
Because if one it could be then perchance it is thee!
But the standards of entry are steep.
I already know that I’ll never qualify:
I don't measure up to the criteria offered.
As mentioned before, I'm not one to adore,
and so it seems I'm destined to remain a pauper.
But I won't sit back and just be a side character
(for the part of the lead I'm deemed unfit).
I refuse to bow down to the ideals that abound—
And if that makes me the villain? So be it.
I will wield my wicked power.
Set a curse across the land.
Have a vendetta against our hero
Because for their antics I will not stand.
And I know that this means that I'm destined to lose—
The villain rarely survives (except for a sequel).
And the protagonist will tell my story
And make my actions and choices seem evil.
Perhaps my ordeal will seem useless
since the morals of the winner will persist.
But just because it is a fight I cannot win,
Does not mean I shouldn't resist.
Because life is fairytale, sure,
but "happily ever after"s don't last as long as the name implies.
There are too many losers, too many misfits,
that the values of the protagonist leave behind.
So in this story I might be the bad guy.
But that's based on someone else's word.
And stories can change, lenses be rearranged,
and I'll fight until my story's heard.