Captivity of Negativity

Life feels like the beginning of a fairy-tale, 

when the fair maiden is trapped 

in a tall tower by an ugly witch, 

or a cruel stepmom makes her 

scrub floors, darn clothes, chop wood. 

Or overcome by motionless slumber 

she lies in the middle of the woods 

awaiting that special kiss. 

I sit here as if I have no choice but to sit here. 

I work hard as if all I can do is work hard. 

I talk to people as if I care about people. 

I talk of myself as a stranger. 

I want to get to know me. 

I want to find out what it is that keeps me alive, 

what makes me tick, 

what makes be wake up every morning 

and breathe through the day. 

Showing the world who I am 

involves knowing who I am 

in the first place. 

Knowing what I want. 

Everyone around me 

seems to be doing what they want to do 

with their lives 

or at least on their way there.

I'm not even close. 

I stay doing the things

I know I don't want to be doing 

simply because I don't know 

what it is that I'd rather be doing. 

I don't want to be the person 

who sits around waiting for things

to happen to me. 

For now, I snuggle in my gold sweater 

and itchy as it is, I'm comfortable. 

A split second of darkness makes things clearer. 

Each of the fair maidens lived 

by waiting for their happy endings, 

which involved a fairy godmother 

or 7 dwarfs or long, silky hair 

and ended with a handsome prince 

sweeping her off her feet. 

Then again, I'm no fair maiden 

and my story's not going to end with 

'And they all lived happily ever after' 

I think it would make me happy

if it just ended with 'And she lived'.