One glass slipper is being dusted
for prints; a satin pale
blue gown is stained ink red.
One evil stepmother is wanted for murder.
The colors from the wind
are now faded; torn, blotted
with liquid crimson. A scar just
below her left shoulder
is seen scratched deep beneath
her war paint, a mark to warn
Captain John Rolfe.
An old wishing well from 1937
that sings in echoes, encasing
a once golden heart.
Her cheeksonce rosy pink,
her eyes now rest shut, burying her
seventy-year-old skeleton with it.
A storm carries sea foam;
dead fish tail and a steel
knife float above the surface.
Her prince will never dream
of her smile again.
Up in a lonely tower, where
a young knight is said to have
slayed demonic creatures,
rests the shadow of a fair
maiden trapped, never again
to live corporeal to receive
her destined true love's kiss.
YOU ARE READING
Awkward, Unrequited, Superficial, Toxic, Real Love.
PoetryLove is messy and beautiful. I have been writing poems since I was a teenager. It was my escape. It was and still is a refuge. My 20's are behind me. This book is a small collection of love-related poems that encompass pretty much most of my feeling...
