One girl, one boy.
Totally different,
But very alike.
They find eachother.
They need eachother.
But not for love.
At least, not yet.

She feels guilty,
She flaked out.

He's ******.
But he'll accept it.

They'll figure it out.
Together.

I miss being a child
Ignorance is bliss
I've never heard anything truer.
The moment a child is told not to take candy from a stranger or to insert its fingers in the outlet, it is starting to face the horrors of the world. Rapists, murderers, terrorists and thieves; people the child is going to hopefully always evade and not face. And then said child turns into a adolescent. Makeup, tampons, BO and acne. You find out boys are pigs and girls are easy if you know your way with words. You feed off of everything you read and see - the media, parents, teachers, peers and strangers. From then on you have two choices: grow and fend for yourself or keep being a sheep and depending on people to make you feel like somebody. You can educate yourself about sexism, homophobia and islamophobia or call every Muslim "terrorist", say the n words and call people f*gs or *******. Speak up for yourself. Be independent, be your own person. Don't be afraid to look stupid. Research, listen, know your facts. Take very opportunity to travel. Expand your mind. And your heart. Speaking of, do not search for love, it will come. Do not forget to love yourself before loving anyone else. Wrap yourself is self-respect like a thick blanket in the middle of winter. Blow up your self-esteem. But stay humble. Do not brag in the faces of those who have less than you and do not envy those who have more than you. Strive to be as good. So yes, ignorance is bliss but is it really worth missing out on the knowledge?

It wasn't just the shoe.

I like to think that she wanted to go to the ball because she was tired of being defined by her job scope. I mean what she did was even in her name -- Cinderella from the cinders that smudged her face from cooking all day. Cinderella the maid. Cinderella the cook. So she went to the ball to regain that sense of identity and she was ever grateful to her fairy godma for the dress and glass slippers because the fairy saw that Cinderella was just a girl and girls no matter how tired, like pretty things. And this is also true of boys, but I'm not going there.

And I like to think that when she went to the ball she didn't know it was the Prince but he was hot and the strange blushy reaction she got when she saw him didn't really confuse her because it just reaffirmed that she was human and it was right and natural to feel all these things. And she didn't know what to say when she danced with him, so she offered him a recipe for stew and told him a secret (barley grain made stew taste even better) and the Prince was amused, and they weren't in love with each other. Yet. And when the clock struck midnight and he offered to kiss her, she politely declined because she didn't know him all that well, except that he had been very kind and listened to her. Then she ran off.

And when she went back to her old tired life, she was sad but glad because she knew that she was alive and human after all. Except sometimes she worried about him because he didn't have barley grain in his stew. And the Prince went back to his clean well-ordered life but he thought often of the girl who had been so obviously not been of the nobility. And he might have smiled at the memory of her from time to time when he was alone. Until one day he realised that he was in love with the memory of her and he needed to rectify that. So he brought out the shoe and went searching. And I like to think that the glass slipper was just a metaphor for how fragile appearances can be, that we shouldn't take things at their face value, because when he finally found her, she was covered in muck and grime but he recognised her anyway. And she wasn't proud of her appearance but she wasn't ashamed either because it was only a necessary result of all the work she'd been doing.

And I like to think that the Prince realised how wrong he was to have fallen in love with the memory of her because the real woman was so fully present and alive, incomparable to his flimsy memories.

And she, she was glad because he had recognized her. And that was how they fell in love. Only after all the hard work. Oh there was more hardship later on in their lives, but I like to think that at that re-encounter they fell in love because they knew that neither of them was afraid to work to get what they wanted.

I feel as useful as a white crayon,
I feel as if no one will love me again

Why did you go?

Blackberry kisses,
stinging strawberry cuts,
and raspberry colored veins.
If only the shape of your lips
had been as perfect as the
cherry I'm ******* on.
Unfortunately, the golden apple
hue that your soul radiated
was only momentary.

A galaxy paints
my fragile hands
a spectrum of
vivacious color
that even a sunset
just born will envy.

They only glow for
such a small amount
of time, that it's like
seeing a shooting star,
or a lighter's spark ignite
with the naked eye.

I'm left with a thin layer
of crust resembling the earth's
core plastered on my fingertips,
with their jagged edges
and the way they are used
to cutting through skin.

As painful as it is trying to
rid this archaic wonder,
I am not a fossilized relic of myself
left behind for viewers to learn about.
I am just living my life the only way
I know how, as remnants of a lost soul.

you are a poison. you are my drug.
you fly into the grey matter of my brain
you lodge yourself in my mind, you are stuck

the dull ache of you echoes in the hollows of my ribs.
It's painful. make it stop.
I love it.
I love it too much. It is too much
too colorful
too intense
too needy and too real
I leave my plate untouched, instead I feast on my hunger for you.

you hold me tight, I can't wriggle away
I am weak. You are strong
You are me. I am strong.
weeks past and you erase me.
you gnaw on my bones
feasting on the marrow.
a delicacy.