Andrews McMeel Publishing

I think you should be nervous about

what I will accomplish once I heal.

The mountains I’ll move.

The miles I’ll cover.

The skin I’ll get under.

i’m dousing

my fire.

i’m dropping

my sword.

i’m melting

my crown.

i’m destroying

my castle

& then i’m

hurling it

straight

into that

perilous

sea.

all

this time,

i thought

myself

a motherfucking

queen,

&

only now

am i

realizing

that it was

all make-believe.

in one of our many worlds existed a girl who couldn’t handle how very sad & confusing life could be, so she approached one of her many overstuffed bookshelves, got up on her tippy-toes, & pleaded to the dozens of warped & well-loved spines, “i want nothing more in this world than to be one of you.” miraculously, the books listened. they more than listened. from that day on, they took her in & raised her as one of their own. each night while she was supposed to be sleeping, the girl’s new family scribbled her into fairy tales about princesses & witches & even her favorite fantastical creature: mermaids.

in a distant land . . .

sometimes

she cannot

tell the

difference

between

the days

she’s walked

this earth

as herself

&

the days

she’s walked

through paragraphs

as someone else.

do you

ever

find

yourself

nostalgic

for

the life

you never

got to

have?

do you

ever

find

yourself

nostalgic

for

the person

you never

got to

be?

milk&honey

falls from

the clouds

instead of

rain.

even the

absolutely

unthinkable

happens

here:

children

learn peacefully,

unafraid of

angry hands

around guns.

what i mean to say is i never meant to be here for so long.

- forever wandering lost & wandless.

“maybe

i’m not

the book you

dog-ear &

keep with you

always,”

the girl

murmured,

pulling her

sleeves

over her

hands.

“maybe

i’m the book

you forget

to bookmark

& leave

on the train.”

a n y o n e

just

come along

& gaze

upon me

with such

adoration

it’s

as if i’m

the gem

of the deep,

not the rubble

of pompeii?