Once upon a time.

i.

Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary;

You know not what you've done.

ii.

Castles and tiaras and princes and toads tell you nothing of my life.
I find dungeons, neck-breakers, buyers of property, and wild game more fitting.

I am faded hues of amber; I'm shades of royalty and perceived perfection.
I'm porcelain shadows, muted screams and honey-flavored divinity...
but more importantly, I'm an object;
Replaceable, removable, and buy-able.

My ribcage contracts beneath fabricated steel, laced delicately up the back to hide any imperfection;
My own personal prison.

My neck rests on a wooden board; Not allowing my head to touch the goose-feather pillow.

[For fear my pincurls will be disrupted.]


iii.

I mean nothing to anyone; I'm only a piece of property fighting for a chair and a piece of metal to garnish my head.
My sister tries to kill me in my sleep, so that it may be hers.

Violins only seem enchanting, and fine wine only appears romantic.
The balls gowns only are perceived as beautiful; when in all actuality, their only purpose is to make the highest bidder's bid even higher.

If I don't behave in the ways of a princess, I'll withstand a beating that no one can ever say they've experienced..and it most definatly won't be the first, second or third time...

..this week.

I hide behind a mask, for fear a prince may see me and wish to claim me as his own.
I'm not his queen, I'm his sex-slave.
Bound indefinitely and forever to his lustful heart and wandering eyes.

Dreams never get the chance to be imagined;

And virgins are only that way for 15 years or so.

[[Happily-ever-afters never existed.]]