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Handsome Princes Never Commit to Forever
There is a girl entirely composed of ink,
She is sitting against a tree, revealing her fragility.
When the breeze flows past, her hair flows..
But the rest of her body remains still.
Her bones are woven with straw,
Prepared to break with even the most casual embrace.
Her pale skin dares to be touched,
But she knows that her time will be spent beneath the Willow, alone,
With dead leaves in her lap,
Carefully covering her mysterious appearance,
And memories past.
When her lips part, it's only to release a sigh,
Her chest heaves, thoughts fly through her head,
Mostly they show her hopelessness,
Her devotion to the boy,
That took a chisel to her finely carved glass heart.
It is cracked now, with pieces scattered throughout her rib cage,
They shine like glitter and make her blood look delicate.
Her chest heaves again,
Inhaling oxygen through her paper lungs.
The only words heard through her breath are..
"I'll be your pretty princess..."
But there is no one around to hear her make a sound.
With her green eyes she projects a story in front of her.
She can see herself dancing in 50's attire,
With the man she named "Handsome Prince"
He cradles her chin and says "Ohhhh green eyes, you are the one."
Then it's a quick dip with dazzling charm.
Static cuts out the ending, and her eyes flutter,
Still staring out ahead.
When she tries to cry, it makes her sigh again.
Her tears are dry, they don't exist, she's left alone emotionless.
If only she had a screw, something to twist her neck..
So she wouldn't have to stare at her paper prince,
The one that left her and gained a new lover.
If only she had strings..like those of a marionette
To dance across the horizon on the Californian sunset
If only, if only..
If only he hadn't left.
