Fairytale

Once upon a time

when I loved you

my sad and lonely hand

will long and search and find yours,

ever so fragile and so gentle

waiting to have and hold mine,

waiting to mold our fingers

together

leaving no parting spaces

in between,
not wanting to let go.

Once upon a time

when I loved you

springtime beamed from your 

lovely little face;
golden brown feathers rustled
and perfectly complimented

the bloom of your lips,

a sweet, morning bud pink

which blossomed so beautifully,

transfixing the sunbeams in your smile

reflecting eternity

in the sunrises and sunsets of your

earthen brown eyes.

Once upon a time

when I loved you

I used to have you and hold you

in my love hungry arms

only fed and satisfied by the

smoldering embers of passion that burn

ever so softly, deftly, and brightly

warmly and longingly

gently and sweetly

in your long, everlasting embraces.

Once upon a time

when I loved you

these dusty, neglected lips of mine

ached and longed and desired

to give you only the best

of my virgin kisses,

drunk and plump with

ecstatic fantasies 

and carefree daydreams

and youthful love songs

harmonious with the melodies

of the I-love-yous
that we always sang.


But now, once upon a time
is now over. Those
fragile and gentle hands of yours
now only look like gnarled claws
scratching and ripping and tearing me apart
already so hurt and so harmed
with scars of regret
with cuts of rage and sorrow
with wounds of anguish
leaving me bloodied and defeated
in this battle of love.


Once upon a time
is now over.
Winter and autumn clash over 
the springtime of your face.
Dry, crumpled leaves match 
the wilted, frostbitten blossom 
of your now dark and poisoned lips,
drained of the springtime palette,
leaving nothing but the wrath of
the raging blizzard
to make endless voids of your
ice dagger eyes. 


Once upon a time
is now over.
I grow weary of 
the deathtrap that lies in your embrace,
hungry for bloodshed and ironic revenge.
I am gullible and stupid
like many trapped prey
to succumb to that old, useless passion;
fire burning and catching
in those arms of yours,
longing and waiting for your gentle touch
only to find myself
locked under the strangle of your
writhing hands.


Once upon a time 
is now over. Singed
are my lips, cut out is 
my tongue, for having
kissed you and loved you,
now a crime of treason
to you. The same lips
which used to sing of
our blissful love songs,
and whisper sweet nothings
into my fragile ears,
spit only poison
and pointed daggers
and God-forbidden curses
which strike my head
and my broken heart.


Once upon a time
when I loved you
you were my forever.
But now,
in this once upon a time,
I can only question
what forever really meant.