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.