questions
if i were cinderella
would you
pick up the glass slipper
i left behind to
find me?
and if i were the moon and
you the sun,
would you die
every
night just to let me breathe?
if i were to give you
my heart
would you keep it;
or would you just make me
bleed?
there are so many questions
and in the absence of
your presence
there are no answers,
but my mind still keeps questioning
every little thing
the nuance of every word
it keeps over thinking
until the cogs of it all hurts my brain;
the sky is full of cold and this lack
of warmth washes over me
full blast in this little
apartment—
i dare not to turn the heat up
or else i should scald myself but it isn't
quite warm enough to keep me
comfortable,
sitting with a blanket around my shoulders
as a make-shift cape i imagine myself a
vampire in pursuit of her
fellow vampire lover,
and i wonder are you he?
or are you not?
for you could be just another pretty face
time waster and skirt chaser,
and so i sit here in
indecision knowing only i do not
chase men and every text
i silently have been praying it is you,
but it never is.
hanging my hopes on stars
everyone tells me forever
but
forever is a lie
i don't want a man to promise
me forever
ever
again; only tonight
because then i can judge his honesty
for anyone who has mentioned
a future with me
has always let me down,
and even you
mentioned hanging out in some distant
future and failed me;
i stood here waiting for so long
praying i was wrong about
you
that it was just some mistake or misunderstanding
but that was not to be—
i have always wanted a forever love
built with a deeper foundation
than stars
with roots reaching further and deeper
into the earth than trees,
and you seemed so promising at first but i
ought to have known better than
to get excited;
every time i do i'm only ever let down—
my mother always told me to
expect nothing from people that way
i won't be disappointed when
they let me down,
and so nevermore shall i hope in people
i will want for the best but expect
the worst in an attempt for
self-preservation
or sanity, perhaps, both.
in pursuit of my sun
it is said in legends
that the sun
died for the moon
simply so she could breathe,
and i wonder
shall ever a man do that for me?
love me enough to hold me when i need it,
but to let me shine
when i must be alone?
i have always hoped the answer to this
question would be yes,
and there's a part of me still hoping
while the skeptic in me says
nevermore shall a man exist like this
i need someone to prove
the skeptic in my heart wrong;
for if she isn't
i fear i may be destroyed in that painful
epiphany—
you're trying too hard to keep up the enigma
and you'll lose me if you chase this
facade,
because not everything needs to be a mystery
there is beauty in things other than the
mystique;
i've met men like you before men of a thousand
faces and all i want is one
brave enough to
love me
so if you don't move along
because i need to find my prince before the skeptic
convinces me there isn't one.
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