Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tsuki no ume Jul 5
Once upon a little girl
Opened her eyes to see the world
Eyes so bright a cry too sweet
With hands so little she would meet
She would cry she would smile
Alive,innocent and fragile
Un aware she who was
She who not knew the cause
The snakes were like fairy maids
One she thought had magic wands
To give her every thing she wants
But they were wolves in  sheeps skin
They would howl they wont bleat
Soon the truth could be seen
How could she not believe
When the wolf was like a mother eve
Soon the time would come and flee
She would call is it me
But she is not for her to see
When they are born in place of me
Youre not a child for us to keep
Finding they were not the sheeps
But wolves that howl in night so deep
They bite they growl but they never sleep
Should i bow should i kneel
Would i be served another meal
Should i stay or should i flee
Or should i run away from me
But one starry night he comes
Piping a flute as he hums
Singing me a melody
Tell me ways how to flee
Thinking happy thoughts you see
Growing up is not the key
Sitting by the window pane
Perched there as he says
Do you want to run away
Soaring the skies as we stay
Gazing the stars as we play
Climbing wild on every tree
Take my hand and lets be free
Isnt it your heartfelt plea
In that land where you shall flee
This is the place called neverland
The Lagoon with its sparkling sand
You and I hand in hand
With a little bit of pixie dust
With hope and little bit of trust
Look me in the eyes and see
Fill with wonder ,Fill with glee
Second to the right and see
A star full of happy dreams
Straight on till the sweet morning
Its where they always be warning
Dont be afraid just come to me
Ill be the one to set you free
Pretty fairies you shall meet
Pirates ,Captain hook and Smee
All that pain shall fade away
Holding you in my arms and say
Growing up is a mortal's way
Together forever we shall stay
Young, alive and happy you say
Its a curse its a dream
An angel of death i could be
Do you still wish to stay
I could **** i could slay
Every one who disobeys
Wishing of growing up one day
All those lost boys would say
But i would not be one of those
I hate those words they would say
Grow up and marry one day
But i wish to choose i wish to stay
You cant be a girl anymore
You shall be caged forevermore
I promise i wont be the wendy bird
Who never stayed who never heard
I shall stay i shall play
In neverland if you say
Come peter take me away
In neverland if you say
Come peter set me free
From this mundane reality
Come peter love me please
Hold my hand and never leave
I shall stay i shall play
In neverland if you say
              ___tsuki no ume~
badwords Jun 25
. (Mythology Re-Imagined As Fairy-Tale & Deconstructed) .

No one recalls when he arrived.
He was already there, in the corners of high rooms.
Carried in on wind or instinct.
Too composed to belong, too still to be ignored.

He wasn't from the sea, though he stared at it often.
Stared like a man who missed something he never touched.
He lived above things—above feeling, above endings.
He wore distance like other men wear charm.

And she—well.
She wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

---

They said she’d been sealed beneath water before time had a name.
Not drowned. Not sleeping.
Just paused.

A beauty left half-sketched.
A song trapped on the bridge, never reaching the chorus.
She existed in the almost.
The kind of presence that ruins men who believe in silence.

No one put her there.
But something had.
Something old and silver-lipped, a clockmaker with no face.

---

When he found out, he didn’t shout.
Didn’t storm.
Storms are for men who want to be heard.

He simply started unmaking himself.

Small things, at first:

Giving away secrets he never told.

Letting starlight fall from his shoulders like ash.

Standing in rooms long enough for people to forget he was tall.

Eventually, he gave away the last thing he had—
the part of him that never wanted anything.

And that was enough.

---

She came back like foam curling over marble.
Not as a lover. Not as a reward.
As weather.

She passed him by.

Looked at the space he’d vacated inside himself
and nodded, as if to say: “Yes. That will do.”

---

After that, things changed.

She walked through the city like someone who could end it.
Touched doorframes and left them trembling.
Spoke only when the sentence would shatter something.

He, on the other hand,
was seen less and less.
Not gone—just thinned out, like smoke after a gunshot.

---

Some say he became the silence in her laugh.
Others claim he left, unfinished, like a poem crumpled in a lover’s pocket.
No one’s sure.

But if you ask the sea just right—
after midnight, after mirrors—
you’ll hear it whisper:

“He let go of the sky, so she could walk through it.”

{fin}
ASLRC Jun 14
On my nightstand, there is a beautiful music box Ballerina
She is stunning, passionate and young, her name is Catherina

Catherina used to dance in circles without ceasing
to the same note, her only purpose was people-pleasing

Whenever someone would open the box and wind it up on repeat
she continued dancing, on demand, ignoring the pain in her feet

Nobody cared how she felt, as long as she kept turning
like a clock, that never stops, she felt her passion burning

The older she turned, the more pain she had to go through
she couldn’t escape ‘cs she was tied to a strong *****

the music started to sound uncanny
she wished she didn’t have to see

So she made her tears red, voluntarily
to escape into her own imaginary
Driven by red
riding hood,
wheels of eternity run
hot and cold
along the tracks
in her arm.

Around the bend
there are jigsaw
pieces of a puzzle,
scattered as destinations
once towns and villages,
now fodder for
the migrant beginner.

According to fable,
there's a wolf at the door,
home is no longer
a worthwhile rendezvous,
but a trap of origin.

Misery is a train ride,
a stray fantasy,
lingering in the wilderness
of her fractured mind.

She sells her gold bracelets,
for she needs
the dark coal,
she seeks
its deep freeze.

She can then
be many things
along the journey,
just never
a connection,
never a permanent signal.
alex May 17
What happened to my dreams
from a lifetime ago
why did I forget about them-
and let them go

I dreamt of a beautiful castle
and a prince charming -
But when did I realise
those princess dreams
were slowly ripping at the seams

Because the thing is
you don’t fall in love after one ball
or a single meeting in a forest
nor from one awakening kiss
- no, love’s not like this

Maybe I don't need
a happily ever after
with fake fairy tale laughter
because I can be happy
without a crown
or a prince
to hold me down.
neth jones May 13
i watch you counting yourself out                                         
                    courting little pets of body-parts
putting pennies on the trinket shelf            
talking with wending wordage            
                 about those gruff fellows
who've been pig-holing    about your dwelling

that day  you manage a back window  
                                           and escape                            
masquerade yourself  as a gentleman
but they sniff at your aromas       
              these men in crude season
they circle you hinge-hipping
as you fleet the roads and fields                        
and evade  into the dappling woods
"come on out  we have you surrounded"                              
(you say  they say)
you stay  crossed legged   a monk among trees
(these pleasing defenders)                                

you take off your dress  and string it
            from one of these trees
you dole yourself out                        
little pets for the undergrowth

           you offer a curled shrew
from the space   your kneecap once
                          occupied

you droop your warm left breast
and drop a beast from that cove
(a plump vole clambers  fresh and
                        disorientated)

you plug one arm into loose soil
                   and the fingers snake root
separation at the elbow                
              and branches sprig out

both your thighs   animate as fox cubs
your ***** leaves from between                  
                         and slinks under some ivy

your hair fiddles loose and travels off
in currents of breeze
before flitting into little finches

your back crumples with fungal looseness
your head weighs low                              
             and the jaw lumps off
shuffling   undecided on its form

your forehead bows  to kiss the earth
and your face scatters  a gaiety of insects  and spores

                  all arts patterned about
your pile continues   in this mattering manner
collapsing efficiently    
you've canonized in nature                    
now you’re abroad  mature and freed          
to tell your friend this story
a spirit  without brag of these neat powers
one with mother glory
ORIGINAL
i watch you counting yourself/putting pennies on the shelf/talking with wending/about those gruff fellows /who've been pig-holing about your dwelling/who circle you hinge-hipping /when you fleet the roads and fields/and INTO THE WOODS
Next page