Snow White

I take a little bite every day

Of the poisoned apple that you gave me,

And die a little bit when I do

Still smiling, though, when I see that

You are happy

/

My insides burn, my heartbeat slows down

And ghosts come to bedside at night

Believing I am one of their kind –

No matter, because I see that

You are happy

/

My skin is grey and my hands are weak,

My tears have dried inside of my eyes,

I think that, in secret from us both, I hate us both,

But I forget it when I see that

You are happy

/
When I have finished eating myself

Alive, what with will I feed your joy,

When I have nothing left of me to destroy

For you to remain at ease,

And happy?

/

To keep you this way, I must swallow poison;

To earn your “love”, I must kill myself,

But slowly, so you’d watch me and see

Me lose for you the Love and Power

I was born with;

/

What you call happiness isn’t it, I feel;

And what you call love’s merely greed,

Your power is a fortress of fear,

And those you lead, you’re leading through hell

To a deeper hell

/

Take back the crown of gold you bestowed

On me, for giving up my garland of light;

I do not want yet to go to sleep,

Not even in a coffin made of diamonds

And dreams

/

I’m sorry, but I’m going to go now;

I don’t know where but I do know why:

I want to learn, to touch and to feel

True happiness, not this of your kind,

And maybe

/

I will

Worthless

The devil of my very own,

Destroyer of all things I build,

With just one one word

To say to me,

“Worthless”,

/

Sat on the throne of my broken bones

Wearing the crown

Of my lifeless dreams,

Immovable like a love-less heart,

And truth-less;

/

I laughed – he bared his fangs and sneered:

“Worthless”, he said, and something died

Dimming the light, which tried to shine

In me, but ultimately failed,

Always;

/

I cried – he cupped his hands and drank

My pain, grinning, licking his lips;

“Worthless,” he sighed, “worthless and weak,”

And stamped my mind

With bite-shaped bruises;

/

He stole each kindness I’d been shown,

Made a reproach out of each word of praise,

Crushed every petal of each flower

I had been given,

Sharpening their thorns;

/

In every mirror which I passed

He painted vileness untold,

“Worthless,” they echoed, “wicked and worthless,”

“A demon, just like him,”

“A monster!”

/

And every victory of mine

He made feel like an ugly loss,

Screaming into my ears, “you’re worthless,

No matter what you f***ing do!”

“You’re worthless!”

/

For years I listened and agreed,

And on my knees before his throne

Believed the lies his voice would speak

Echoing cunningly

My ignorance;

/

“Enough,” I interrupt, today,

“I am no more the little girl

Into whose heart one night you slithered,

And in whose mind

You built your stronghold;”

/

“I am no monster, I’m no demon;

No matter what the blind see in me;

I am not worthless, I’m not weak;

For your lies and tricks

I’ve gown too big;”

/

“I’ll neither blame you nor forgive you

For the way that I have lived:

You came because I let you in, and beat me

For I let you beat me in each battle, but the war

You cannot win – such is the Nature’s law.”

/

 I rise, and pick up from the ground

My heart, my mind, my tears, my laughter;

And with the sword of gold I hold,

I slay the king of the hell I thought of

As me,

/

And for the first time ever,

Breathe in

The Weakness

I think of you
As a thunderstorm at night,
As rainbow on the morning
Of rebirth;
/
I see you
As a blizzard, wild and blind,
And as sharp glitter of fresh snow
Hiding the darkness of the world;
/
I touch you
As I would a masterpiece –
With the warmth
Of my fingertips, solely;
/
I listen to you
As I do to the great
Keeper of time and secrets –
The sea;
/
And I cherish
And detest you
As my only
Weakness

A Writer and a Reader

After you’ve read all my tales,

I am sorry we should meet like this,

When I am in a grey kind of state,

Trying too hard to be too many things

/

I am sorry that I, too, can cry

That I fail, disappoint, loose, dispair;

That, in fact, I am not at all brave,

And not beautiful, unique or wise

/

I am sorry that my moods change fast,

When, like now, black doubts overwhelm me;

I am sorry I can’t bring my lips

To smile for you, who came far to see

/

Someone you thought you liked because

On a good day she was good with words