[Poetry- Open, Faerie Tale] Happily Ever After is a Happy Lie

A/N: After my research, I read that faeries are often mean-spirited little devils, and not the benevolent creatures in fairy tales (BTW, I spell it FAERIE because that's how it's really spelled.) So what in the world would happen if faeries showed their true colors? There may be semi-offensive racist language but then again, the person who's supposedly narrating this poem is a bit rude anyway.

Happily Ever After is a Happy Lie

In faerie tales, there is never really a happy ending
I'll be frank, I know the truth
Those faeries are tricky creatures
They don't like their changelings changed back
So when a prince becomes a frog, he stays a frog
No amount of romance or "true love" can change that
And beasts too, they stay horrid forever
To slash at portraits of how they were once comely
You think a faerie would give him up to a pretty girl?
Are you daft?

And as for cinders, they stay cinders
To smudge your face as you labor for all eternity
No faerie in their right mind will help you
Turn to your earthly godmother and you'll have better luck
Perhaps with her failing eyes she'll sew you a pretty dress
And you can go in disguise to the ball, better yet
The spirit of your dead mother in a crab or fish
Plant its bones in the dirt, but then again
That only happens in Southeast Asia; Whitey, you're out of luck.

And come on, crystal shoes may come in pairs
But when they break they cut you, and you bleed.
What was once pristine white will be stained ruby
You were a fool to think that faeries would be
Benevolent enough to give you shoes without a catch
With faeries, there is always a catch...they are the great seductresses
Otherwise why are there so many enchanted princes and princesses?
Jealousy, I tell you.
They want the world in the palm of their hands
And they'll get it, if you're dumb enough to fall for their tricks

If your skin is white as snow and lips red as fresh blood
That poison apple you eat is probably going to put you to sleep for good
The Grimms had it closer to the mark, they did their research
The Evil Queen was probably a Faerie herself
They're vain little creatures, you know
So if you're pretty, stay away from the lands of Faerie
Or you might find yourself dead or worse
Turned into a warthog or some such animal
Or horribly disfigured, no matter if your heart is as pure as glass
They'll scratch at your face with their claws

Same thing if you forget to invite faeries to your parties
No one of them is going to help you get over your curse
And if you burn every spinning wheel in the kingdom, ha!
They can just enchant one out of butterfly dreams
Or better yet, jab the spindle into your heart
Cover your castle in thorns - the prince will never reach you
And if he does, he'll find a sallow stick in your bed
So much for 'sunlight', am I right?
You'll lie there dead and rot
And so will all the kingdom 'round you.

So if you really want a happy ending
You're not going to get it - idiot - reading faerie tales
You must step out in a gown you made yourself and not by mice
You must grow your own roses, and clip them as soon as petals start to fall
Use a sowing machine, not a spinning wheel
And NEVER eat juicy red apples, the green ones prevent cancer anyway
Just stay in the real world
There are no princes, but at least no meddling faeries will destroy your chances
At true love, for there is where the tales did not lie
There is such thing, and if you're strong you'll find it.

Fin

[Creative Nonfiction] He Used To Be Your Number One

To find yourself, you must lose yourself.

He used to be your number one. Your number one thought. Your number one (try only) subject of conversation. Your number one inspiration (or lack of it). But now you've erased him, and you have a void to fill.

He used to be your number one, till you erased him from your phonebook, deleted him from your YM friends, and attempted - just attempted - to stop replaying all your conversations over and over and over.

Then he started to hurt you, and a little voice in the back of your head - the little voice that keeps you from making a mess (cue Hilary Duff song stylings) - tells you that he's your number one again...your number one problem. And you can't seem to solve him - ehem - it.

Then you watch him fall, the same way you fell, and he becomes your number one again. Your number one object of pity. Now you can forgive him, when you see him that way. When you understand that he and you were one in the same, so things would never have worked out. So now you see him for what he was - not the prince you saw before he broke your heart, or the horrible monster you saw afterwards - but just a boy, just like you were just a girl, just like you can be both dark and light, beauty and ugliness, truth and lie.

You see him with new eyes, see him the way you never saw him - as a human, just like you, who cries inside when you cry aloud, and chases after a dream quietly the way you do so arms flailing and ready to conquer the world. You cannot love him again - it is not in your power, you have changed so much - but you can understand him the way, once upon a time, you dreamt you would. Because now you understand how much he is truly like you, yet unlike you. In knowing him, you know the face in the mirror.

You've let go long ago - you've moved on, you've found other number ones who've come and gone - yet he'll always be the special one. Because you see, he was the one who was most like you, even though he could never understand you. And so while you were hurt - you were cut till it bled, sucked dry till there was nothing left - you forgive. You see him live the same life of quiet desperation you have led time and time again, and you wish him the best.

For you know that fools like you and he need love, and if he finds it, then so will you.