tangled up thoughts

when she was a little girl, she
never wanted to be a princess.

it wasn’t because she didn’t like them,
but because
where other girls saw beauty
and glitter
and beautiful dresses, silky and soft
she saw power.
she saw a power and a responsibility that
no amount of beauty would
ever make her want

and she read books about
anne boleyn,
and visited haunted castles
and tried to imagine the kind of life where
people were locked up in towers
and brothers murdered brothers,
husbands wives.
she tried to imagine what those
big stone castles would look like at
night, with the lights taken away
and she tried to imagine waking up
at daybreak,
the crisp morning air mingling
with the smell of sewage
and sweat
and sour breath,
and being raised by people
who weren’t your mother.
she looked at guillotines
and, in shocking moments of clarity,
imagined herself bound in front of one
heart jumping, lungs aching
panic seeping through her body with nowhere to go.

and then she grew up [and met a special somebody]
and those thoughts lay forgotten in a tangled heap
of clothes and laughter and murmured sighs
when he called her his princess.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. C.B. Wentworth
    May 01, 2012 @ 23:14:07

    Oooo, love this. :-) I like the juxtaposition of dreams and reality, especially when the blur at the end.

    Reply

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