Not A Fairy TaleThere she sat, a princess in her castle. Alone in the tallest tower, left to die by those who wished her harm. Her worst enemy: herself, her knight in shining armor: none.
No one was coming to save her.
No one even cared she was there.
She was alone with nothing but her thoughts for company.
And ever so present were they.
"Secret," they had whispered. "Secret." Their soft monotone caressed her cheek. The affection of a love once lost.
"Nobody," another murmured. This one wrapped around her throat, threatening to choke. It never did, just gave her the ever present fear.
"Unrequited," said another, weaving in and out of the holes in her chest, bothering the still fresh wound.
"Disgrace." A more harsh mutter bit at her flesh, taking pieces with it as it went.
"Liar!" The more aggressive screamed, cutting her thighs in quick, even strokes.
"Whore!" The twin screamed, slashing up the waist.
The princess sat still during all of this, her thoughts killing her slowly. Many times in the past ha
My Worst FearIf only "lonliness" was justMy Worst Fear3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a means to an end...
The ChildA cold wind whispers through the groveThe Child4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
On this lonely winter's night.
The full moon glows upon the snows
With an eerie silver light.
Some movement shows itself to me,
Against the snowy glare;
And if you did look carefully
Into that forest, you might see
The boy who frequents there.
Now you may ask, as many do
When they come upon this sight,
'Why is a child out in the wild,
Against Nature's vicious might?'
Fear not, my friend, for that poor soul;
He cannot come to harm.
You see, for him the bell did toll;
His body rests in a deep hole.
His is a ghostly charm.
'How did he die,' you question now,
'And why is it that this boy
Appears to be lost and lonely,
Moving without any joy?'
I fear the cau
RegretsWho, me?Regrets3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, I'm fine, just a little hypothetical salt in the metaphorical wound.
I guess you could call me a masochist
'Cause I'm sure that's what I am.
Feeling the pain just to know I am alive again.
Sure, my music is loud.
I may be alive, but that doesn't mean I am careless.
Carefree is more like it.
You asked if I had any regrets.
I don't regret YOU if that's what you're asking.
I regret me.
And surely you do, too.