I am sand.

People say rocks are,
Solid
Dependable
Unchangeable
Tell sand that.
Worn away.
Hour after hour,
Day after day.

People say rocks are,
Rigid
Firm
Strong
Tell sand that.
Crushed slowly.
Wave after wave,
Footstep after footstep.

People say rocks are,
Steadfast
Reliable
Unfailing
Tell sand that.
Drowning always,
In water and weight.
Me, I'm just drowning.
In love and lies.
In fear and anger.
In dumb human emotion.

I am sand.

Here's the story of a girl, who's lips where red as sin. Skipping down an enchanted path, is where we will begin.

Sunshine peeks through the trees, to grandmother's house she must go. She mustn't wonder off this road, but why she doesn't know.

Something seems to follow her, she quickly spies the creature. Hidden intentions behind wicked eyes, a lesson he soon would teach her.

Innocent but not for long, she carries
shards that are her youth. Knights and princes cast aside, for twisted Fairy tales hold no truth.

You must know this story, it rings like a familiar bell. The child forced to become a women, because she saved herself from hell.

I don't believe in fairytales
it's really not my thing,
I've never told my children tales
of dragons and of kings.

We’ve watched some shows
on the T.V
of Rubbles and the Stones,
we watched them drive around their cars
of ***** rocks and bones.

I’ve read them poems
of ancient deeds,
they rode a trojan horse.
Those bards of old
could tell a tale,
words of truth of course.

We’ve sung our songs
of buses wheels,
and Irish unicorns,
but now we hear
the beating drum
marching until morn.

I don’t believe in fairytales,
it’s really not my thing,
I will not teach them, I’m too prim
they really are quite Grimm.

If it was for me.
It could be meant to be.
There's a chance for you and me.

Asking her for a dance,
Is like counting the stars by hand.
Asking her for her hand,
Is a one-in-a-million chance.

If fairytales did exist, won't you stay and reminisce.
Counting days that we'll miss.

The soft crackle of sand
pail under moonlight,
lapped up by an ocean's returning tongue,
time and again.
Waves hello.

Look above.
You will see fireflies in plain view
yet static and beyond the the reach of hand,
then I remember the promenade clearly
where yours once found gaps in mine.
Ambling parallel to the shore, with a grip
the sea could not part,
but the word 'forever' could not anchor.
Waves goodbye.

He's the dagger
twisted in my gut,
all the pretty words
dolled up with a
smile that is anything
but pure or true.

He's a spicy treat,
when all I'm looking for
is something sweet.

Perhaps it's wrong of
me, to search for love
in eyes that wander so
far I have to make
maps of their journey.

He has me falling
from the tallest crevices
with promises to catch
me with arms that are
already holding another.

He's a lost cause,
a candle blown out,
the stolen kiss that
was never returned.

But I'd bet all my
money on him within
a heartbeat if he said
he felt even a mere
shadow of what I did.

I want to write, story tell, create, and mold. Breathe life into pages. Force emotions in those that have not felt, bring tears to the heartless, and produce empowerment in the weak. When you think there's no words to describe it turn to my writing and praise me; call me a prophetess. As you lay awake in the silent hours of night and send questions to a higher power that you still question is there. As you despair in the pit you've found yourself in again..I hope that you don't need my words to soothe your soul, and in my absence discover the relief a pen and paper would do to a troubled girl.