Yet another late-night poem. I should probably sleep more. Just so anyone reading this knows, I write poetry without revisions. What is written first is not changed.
I live the fairytale
The way my mother said I should.
But now I'm stuck here
When I would rather be out there.
The other girls are out dancing
And flirting and living their lives
While I stay here, in my home
Cooking and cleaning and waiting for him
To come home and tell me how my life
Is so perfect
And how lucky I am to have it figured out
But he's wrong.
My life isn't perfect or even alive.
It is frozen in place
Like a wax statue
Unchanging, never moving.
I never lived my life
I chose to do what others thought was right
What the stories said good girls
Should do with their lives.
My prince found me years ago
And I thought he saved me.
But in reality, he preserved me
Like a pressed flower
Between the pages of the Bible.
And here I shall remain
Imprisoned by invisible chain
My only crime
Being to afraid to live.
I settled for the perfect life.