It hadn’t troubled her at first

She knew early enough that fairy tales

Were for those who could afford to dream them

After all she’d been stepping in

The shattered remains of her glass slippers

For far too long anyways

Yet sometimes she still hung onto the hope

That one day her life would be

Like the endings of those books

She wanted to breathe in the pages

Have the ink lift and be transported

Tattooed on her tongue

Imprinted on her mind

She felt that

If they were a part of her in this way

She would never be alone

To face all those villains that in the real world

No one had ever spoken of

It would be so much easier

To swallow down the truth

If she immersed herself in lies