The lost princess wanders,
gracefully wishing she could get back home.
But home is a place that has no borders,
she does not know where home is now.

The weight of reality pushes down on her,
the real life and the real world.
She cares for none of it,
prefers fairy dust and magic.

She will forever be six years old,
staying up past her bedtime to read about magic.
Being one thing forever, she thinks,
is far too taxing.

She asks, Why can't I dance with the fairies,
tiptoe through the looking-glass,
and to the land of always-winter.
I am all that I am not, and there is beauty in brokenness.

She has all but forgotten what that felt like,
those old days in glowing sunsets.
But once in a while her heart hums at forgotten magic,
and she remembers life through a kaleidoscope lens.

One day maybe she will fit in here,
but until that time she waits.
Hoping for a glimpse of what she used to want,
of all she used to hope for to come true.