I wouldn’t call myself a princess
I know that because
I cut my foot when my glass slippers shattered
I blead all over the shards then tied wire around them
So those stained glass pieces would let you see the world
Through rose colored glasses
Because I woke up one morning to you cutting off my long golden hair
You said it was because every time you tossed in your sleep
You’d get tangled and tug it and you didn’t want to ever hurt me
Never realizing that hair was the only way I could reach you
Because I lost my voice and my legs loving you
My throat raw from yelling and legs too seasick to walk away
But you said you liked it better that way
It was easier for you to kiss a mouth that didn’t move
And touch a body that always stayed
So, no, I’m not a princess
But we are kind of in a fairy tale
Our story was a lie whispered to children at night
It was a dragon guarding nothing
It was the result of spells and potions
It was a silent mirror
It was just some made up mythical fairy’s tale