some day my prince will come

I remember who I was when I consciously thought
(Like the porceline princess did,
Before that old bitch slipped her a laced apple)
“Some day my prince will come.”
Such an idealistic child.

Yeah, I’ve met this Prince Charming mother fuck.
If you see him, tell him thanks for killing that idealistic kid.
She was annoying.

If you don’t know what I mean,
The part about Mr. Charming being bullshit,
Then please plug your ears.
I can’t be the one who tells you the tooth fairy doesn’t exist
That privilege is reserved for another
Don’t worry, you’ll know who.

Besides, I could not accurately depict
The horrors of the true coming of age
When reality is nothing more
Than the 9 to 5 and a cold bitch slap right on the cheak
The same spot where my prince kissed me last.

in the real me

Changing, morphing, growing, evolving.
The pains and pleasures of each bone breaking
Breaking and resetting
The pain is pleasurable
I’d rather feel this pain for a million years
Than be so crooked.
I’d rather swim in the pure concentrated essential oils
Of this pain
Than to ever again feel the ecstasy of the plateau
The warmth that slowly creeps from the tips of your fingers
And toes
And electrically shoots to your root chakra
And just teeters.
A crazy cosmic scale, balancing billions of tons on both ends
So much potential energy
All waiting for the cue.
The breath, the simple movement, whatever it is
That’s it, breathe those lusty words into my ear, love.
Now the cosmic equation is complete
That somehow, it throws the balance off
The mighty libraic scale tells me the plateau is done
And suddenly the potential energy is not potential anymore.
The mighty energy release is nothing compared
To the excruciating pleasure of self-actualization.
How can a contorted creature feel such pleasure to begin with?
Just you wait
How much better it will be
When you’re in the real me.