As Red As The Queen’s Heart

There are some stories that are not meant for the bleeding heart,
Their tales too dark and twisted,
Not yet meant for the minds of the innocuous and blameless,
So they are re-written into tales of enchanted spells and magical kisses.
Where sweet boys marry true loves, living happily ever forever.
And the ending is in the last kiss at sunset, never to be revisited.
But these tales of fabricated adventures and idealistic love hold dark truths,
And that is where you will find a girl built with the strength of a lost boy,
The courage of a brilliant thief and the seductive allure of the sorcerous.
She looks familiar, like a forgotten reflection,
With the eyes of a girl who once believed in magic and wonder.
(But a mind of someone who lived through the horrors these gifts can bring).

She is a product of a romantic and the realism the tales present,
Trapped in the attractiveness the happy ending, caught by the alternatives.
(But the endings never change; she has them memorized by now)
It doesn’t matter where she goes, or if she trues to run,
She sold her soul to a fantasy stuck in a never-ending series.
And it always renews at the hero’s strife, the villain’s defeat.
But it’s hard to defeat the villain when you are one in the same.
So the cycle begins once more,
And another loses its head to the Queen, who detests impetuousness,
For love has no place in a kingdom run on betrayal and obedience.

She knows the danger of giving yourself fully away to a love believed true.
Because when Alice fell down the rabbit hole, she didn’t just fall once.
With stars in her eyes, Alice gave him not her heart but her mind,
So his crazy became her love, and they say love is as crazy portrays.
(Though his insanity left her seeing a red as rich as the Queen’s heart).
And Peter gave his all to the boys, who would sell him out,
On the idea of adventure, of riches and gold that would make a pirate jealous.
So she lights the flame, burning the pages of the saga she’s stuck in,
And the ashes fall, the embers burning a memory into the ground.

She reaches the what’s left of its pages, knowing the outcome will not change.
It is only when sanity can be found in Wonderland,
And there is no innocence to be found in Neverland,
That is when imagination and creativity have died,
And the story has finally come to an end.
In it’s place, a bleak sense of self-righteousness,
And she will long for the days of delusional fantasies and heroic villains.
For at least they held favor with the Queen of Hearts.
But for now, she begins again her stupid fairy tale,
Hoping for a sweet boy that will wake her with a magical kiss.
(Though she knows the chaos of the legend will wake her long before a kiss)

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