Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
Pencils grow heavier
As they scratch lies across a page.

Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
Sparks that flew
Hearts that grew
Lips that met.

Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
That life gets in the way
Of fledging happiness.

Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
Words that fell
Down the nape of her neck
And into her chest.
Fingers that caressed
The line of his jaw
And the ridge of her cheek.
Whispers that rose
Yielding into the ice of the moon
And crept into the lining of their souls.

Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
Happiness carries the inevitability
Of pain underneath its wings.


Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
One basket of memories never made
And of growing disappointments.
One slowly cooling heart.
Two stale throats musty and seldom used.

Write a happy story,
They said.
They did not know
That no matter how much heart’s-blood
You pour into their soul,
Sooner or later, destiny comes to play.
Even the greatest love story,
eventually finds an end.  

Pretty girl,
Handsome boy.
Fairy-tales incarnate.
But fairy-tales cannot survive in this world.
The magic mirrors cracked.
The poisoned apples fail.
The dragons triumph.
The animals voiceless.
The princes leave.
The princesses stray.

Write a happy story,
They said.
I wrote them a fairy tale,
But happiness had already flown away,
And my pencil had been
Too dull to capture it again.