if you're prince charming then i'm the ugly step-sister.

my dear, i am watching you from across the courtyard, your slow-motion movie moment and i am drenched in an eighty proof nightmare, drowning in a flask beneath my coat; i am going down in flames, but you're not watching. she spins in the air and you're holding her, laughing, and for just a moment i can feel the air on my face, like it's me you're twirling - me, longing for everything i've ever wanted and won't ever have.

&& after school we sit next to each other on the grass playing acoustic lullabies and it's just like old times. it's too beautiful to be believed, love; do you feel this at all? and right as i'm about to tell you that i love you more than she ever can, you start a new melody, the notes floating into the air, snaking in and out of my ears in waves and my heart is ripped into shreds - it's a love song for her; god, i am falling, my heart is on spikes and you don't even know it.

&& you ask me if it's good and i can't lie, i can't lie, i love you. so i tell you yes, it was amazing, she'll love it, she'll love you even more. and your blue eyes shine, so happy and i have to turn away so you don't see the tears clouding my eyes. so you don't see my heart bleeding out of my chest.

you tell me all about her - how i'll love her, how we're so alike, how you just can't believe your luck. and inside i'm screaming, if we're so alike, why aren't you with me? best friends always end up together, haven't you seen the movies? we're perfect but you don't know it. i saw you cry during a walk to remember and i know you wish on the north star every night, hoping that your mom will come back; i know you better than she ever can. we're meant to be, don't you see it?

&& finally i can't stand it, i can't hear about your faerie princess with jeans that are torn in all the right places and eyeliner that doesn't smear and hair that always stays straight, even in the rain, and her oh-so-perfectly pouty lips, shining with just the right amount of cherry-flavored lip gloss. i can't hear about how her hair smells like the watermelon bubblegum i used to chew, how her eyes are green like ireland.

save your poetry for her, darling, because i can't be here for you.

so i'll run to my room, hide beneath the cinnamon candles you used to light, scribble needlepoint prose into my veins and try to stop the tears from coming, to stop my imperfect make-up from running. i'll bury myself in someone else's skin and try to pretend it's you.

&& i'll tear out my heart so you can't break it again.