You think I need a savior – all the king's men and
Jack and Jill besides.
And you tell me you won't be my nursery rhyme.
Too busy fearing yolk on your
Fingers to notice the clean ground and blue sky.
You say you won't lay breadcrumbs, and I revel in being
lost in such a lovely forest. Stopping to stroke the wolves as you shake your head
And hope you won't have to fend them off.
It's true. I once feared to stray from your footprints, the careful trail you blazed through
These woods we call life. I dogged your footsteps whenever you were near; a perpetual follow-the-leader.
And it's true. I once grew my hair, awaiting your return, knowing you'd come to speed me away to
Happily Ever After.
You were as lost as I was when we parted ways. I watched your surefooted departure, standing rooted to the spot, holding paralyzed as thorns grew around me.
I don't know how long I stood before I parted the briars,
Crawling through a gap between vines. All I knew was, there were frogs to be
kissed and apples to be tasted. I couldn't admire
your face in the sunlight. But the sun shining
through the trees was beautiful. And I learned to look
up, and ahead.
Even hundred-acre woods can't hide you forever. And you weren't trying to stay hidden. You found me, crying over
another ended moment, and waited with me until I could sing again.
I'm not asking for a caller – I can narrate my own steps. Just look
at me, and watch me dance, and waltz with me awhile. And if I let you lead
don't start looking for towers and glass coffins.
Don't be my Prince Charming. Just be my Happily.