the beast

born under a cursed star, she grows crooked,
like a blighted sapling forever forced
to twist toward the light, planting roses to
remind herself of the beauty she lacks.

her crumbling castle holds no mirrors, and
the servants have been blinded. even when
she lies, almost smothered in the darkness,
between empty sheets, she feels her skin crawl.

of course, it is a tale as old as time:
she falls in love with the rose thief's daughter
who will share her books but never her bed;
beauty remains a thorn, lodged in her heart.

A/N: And now the villagers call her "monster" for another reason. June 26, 2010.