it's funny how people don't like to
talk about their pasts, talk about all the
fairy tales and ventures that didn't
have their happy endings

like how i want to be able to say that you didn't
hurt me, didn't
bring me to tears through
second and third and
fourth-hand stories for months after your
abrupt departure

i want to say i am an
impenetrable house, and that wolf, he can
huff and puff and puff all day
long, but i will not
falter, will not

but the truth
the truth is that some days i am
made of straw, hanging on by a
thread and his unkind words, they
brought me tumbling down time and
time again until i finally
saved enough strength to

brick by tiny
brick, hour by lingering hour

it took some time, but i am
strong again, i am not
perfectly or flawlessly built but my door is finally wide
open again, i am
standing firm and i am still
all the better for having
loved you

the best i could.


lady grim.

she moves with
grace and without hesitation. she is
beautiful, and she tastes like
coming home.

she harbors no
prejudices, sees not
age nor race nor gender nor sexuality. we are all as
equal in her eyes as i
wish i could see us
through mine.

perfectly able to move
swiftly without warning, providing some
semblance of closure. but she often chooses to be
nothing short of a tease. stringing us
along until we reach the most
unjustified of ends.

and so, so many of my beloved are wrapped in her
cold arms, others warily wrestling her with
every breath.

at moments i want nothing more than to
follow them over the edge, find my
release, find my
escape. join them in the
darkness, prematurely. to
rape her with a
slit of my

but then i remember

to slow down and to
breathe, to
reflect. and her charm, though undeniable,
does not quite romance us all
in the end.