she was the prince
because she couldn't stand being locked up in a castle
she fought battles and won wars and took names
to him she was eris, goddess of discord,
and he a petty thief, stealing sound and life and light
he pillaged corpses while she ravaged countrysides,
and their love was born of envy, hate, solitude,
the meandering loneliness in both of their hearts, so blackened
but it was a fluke, the last laugh of fate as he put a pin through the empty heiress,
the thief stole her soul and sold it for cocaine and dishsoap,
and she impaled him on the sharpest words off her acid tongue,
all i love yous and shaky whispers in the night, hands grabbing at clothes grabbing at skin,
tears and heavy breathing and broken delusions of grandeur,
denial and cigar butts and jewelry in his decaying pockets,
but it was nothing, never anything, she would lie and tell him,
and he would lie and tell himself he didn't love her,
and she would die in the night because after all she was a prince,
assassinated on a rooftop with a bullet through her tongue,
and he'd kiss her one last time,
and he'd pillage her corpse,
because in the end she was just another body,
just another dollar on the table,
just another princess in a castle
wishing she were born a prince.