There was a girl once, a legend she was.

With fire and passion she lived and she loved,

But passion and fade and fires burn out.

And so she was left, another fallen relic of what once could’ve been.

And when the monsters came in she lost the fight,

She lived her life in the middle of a never ending night


This is the part of our story where the prince should arrive,

Noble stead and ability to save her, his supplies.

But ‘twas not the case for this precious girl,

She had no prince nor king who could rescue her,

So she sat alone one night on her bedroom floor.

With a bottle of pills that seemed like a cure.


But drug cocktails made from medicine cabinet leftovers

Can’t fix what’s broken on the inside of her.

This is not the average fairy tale;

There’s no apples, pumpkins, or spinning wheels.



This is not the story of a lost little girl who finds love and a new home.

There is nothing romantic about the heartbreak she housed inside of her soul.

The part of the story that becomes poetic, is not the pain.

But the way she choose to end the never-ending game.

On the carpeted bedroom floor of her private place,

She prepared to leave, gone without a trace.



Something caught her attention from the corner of her eye.

She looked at the picture of her siblings, ready to say goodbye.

But the words wouldn’t come, and soon the tears slowly faded.

She looked in the mirror and realized she had become jaded.

She slowly stood in the mirror and looked herself in the eye,

And with a revelation breathed “I don’t want to die”


And she doesn’t know how it happened, but she knows it wasn’t quick.


She’s not sad anymore, but it wasn’t an easy fix.

After years of hard work, trying to rid herself of the pain,

One day she woke up and the sunrise just made her smile again.




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