Faerie Tales

Mystical poem written 12-19-25.

1.
Almost six years now, Blue Faerie,
Am I still made of wood?
Has my blood quickened yet?
Am I finally a real girl?

Have I finally shed,
That aching body full of splinters,
And the garish clown costume,
That drove me mad?

Have I finally grown a conscience,
And come to life?
Perhaps it’s too early to tell,
It feels an awful lot like being afraid

Which I knew would be the way,
Since I was 19 and realized,
That every woman I knew,
Had been raped

2.
I was a vampire once,
But now my teeth,
Have all rotted,
And I am starving

I swam upriver to get here,
Perpetually falling and rising,
Straining my burning muscles,
As I breathed Water

Cradled and comforted,
By a terrifying Mother,
Who once birthed Winter,
To punish the gods

Yet I have gained in courage,
And we all know,
I am just a different sort,
Of monster now

3.
It’s getting worse out there,
The war has begun,
But the civilized folk,
Haven’t caught up

I finally sleep soundly at night,
Thanks to my now-friendly ghost,
But in a laughless irony,
I spend my waking hours terrified

Obsessively devising a plan,
A path through this bloody game,
Where all of the party lives,
And we get a good ending

The Fates did this to all of us,
We never really had a chance,
I agonize about it all the time,
But I think we’re just woven this way