Fairytale
Nothing is what it appears,
A fact consecrated
In my mind.
I desire to believe
In fairytales and
Hidden worlds.
Be it not for the lesson
Following each mortal man,
In the crushing black of life:
Not every heartache
Is meant to be fixed
With a wave of magic wands.
Or tucked away into closets
Hiding from ghosts
And monsters buried within.
“Life is not fair,”
Never sounding truer within the
Depths of a broken-hearted puddle.
