If you were a storybook character
I would write you as the princess of a kingdom
centuries and lightyears away from this dull planet
finally living (all) the fairytales you once tried to escape to

If you were a storybook character
I would write you as a shimmering mermaid
following the call of (the) ocean and slipping through hands like water
far, far away from those who try to keep you anchored to the surface

If you were a storybook character
I would write you as a woodland faerie
planting sunflowers in every inch of the (world’s) surface
and surrounded by a myriad creatures
from soft bunnies to beasts that only quiet at the sound of your voice

If you were a storybook character
I would write you as (a) warrior
with a bow curved like your smile and arrows as sharp as your wit
eyes blazing, hair flying, feet shaking the earth
as you (stage) a revolution against everyone who has ever tried to **** your spirit

If you were a storybook character
I would write about how you talk like you never need oxygen
how your face somehow shows everything (and) nothing at all
how you quietly notice little things that people overlook
how (you) strive to always do good to others but never to the point of losing yourself
how you love so brilliantly the universe can’t contain it
how you dream big and live boldly because we both know you (are) meant for much more than what they tell you to be

And I know you try so hard to be courageous and good and a hell of a woman
but I just want to tell you that you already are.
(In) all the ways that matter, you are.

Sometimes I wish I really could write you into an epic narrative
a heroine in (its) age-old battle between good and evil,
so the strength and loyalty and bravery I see in you can finally live under the (spotlight) where it belongs

But the one reason I can’t bear to let you become a legend
is that my selfish heart still thinks the greatest thing you do is call me your best friend