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'.
