Sleeping Beauty
There is one blinding instant of pain, so unlike the prick of a needle, which then dulls, bit by bit, to a pale shade of agony. The wound never shows through your skin, and so no one ever kisses it to make it better.
And so instead, the morning comes. The world itself is an endless dream, and the thorns are covering you, bit by bit.
The voice begs you to wake up.
Cinderella
It’s a frequent daydream, that masked ball. All conversation stops, and their eyes as one rest upon you. A path is made, and he walks toward you; you feel the heat of his hands through the silk. In perfect silence, you dance.
But the scene changes, to just you and him, and as the clock strikes thirteen the gown vanishes, leaves you as you are, in jeans and a wrinkled blouse and with panicked, forlorn eyes. The world falls down, and eternity shines in his hand. Then he pulls you into a silent, perfect dance.
Long live the Labyrinth.
Snow White
Growing up a kid with a paler complexion than most, it’s no wonder they started calling you that nickname. It did strange things to your sense of beauty, especially when you found out that one incarnation had a sister.
Princess fair, white as a sheet, flight over fight, passive and menial, blood and lips, sleep and death.
You would have preferred to be Rose Red.
Beauty and the Beast
Upon seeing a picture, your mind goes several ways.
You can rail at the blatant typecasting (the ignorant villager as the villain) and bemoan the evils of the bourgeoisie while sipping at your Starbucks and typing at your Mac, and this is why you can never have a boy with like passions or background.
You can sigh at the golden dress, the pretty ballroom, and plan the dream proposal, and this is why you’ll never click with a man that isn’t gay.
You can hold the supposed intellectual standard to you heart, and this is why—
OMG FURRIES.
The Little Mermaid
If you should turn to sea foam, so be it.
As long as the right person kisses the girl.
