Fairytales begin in the same way

a grandfather clock works—

wheels turning, pendant swinging, chimes ringing

Time wraps around all of us.

 

Once upon a time, I knew a girl with blue eyes.

 

She held her head up high, like a King’s daughter

while on the inside, she crumbled,

fragile as a looking glass,

yet no one noticed.

 

Only 7 going on 8 and suddenly 14 going on 15,

she stood out like a sore thumb, set apart by her bad rep,

her thoughts a wild tangle of wilted roses and thorns,

clouds with no silver linings,

and instead of gold at the end of the rainbow,

she found a shattered teapot.

 

the girl with blue eyes wished she could fly,

second star, straight on to morning but no,

she couldn’t think happy thoughts,

too broken to clap her hands

even if she did believe.

 

Instead, she fell down, down, down,

once upon a time, and Time tangled around her.

 

The girl with blue eyes escaped to her wonderland,

a drugged world,

bright colors making her head swirl

like the Teapot ride in Disneyland,

going round and round and round until

you can’t tell left from right, friend from foe, cake from poison.

 

She plummeted down the hole

like a meteor crashing into the earth,

becoming incandescent,

appearing as a streak of light.

 

Tendrils of hot currents snaked around her,

wrapped her, tied her up

like the tight choking collar on a Rottweiler,

pain ripping her apart

 

leaving her sprawled on a checkered floor.

 

Different sized doors lined the never-ending hallway,

too dazed to see that she was drinking poison

that stretched her body to different proportions,

stung her eyes till she cried up a waterfall

into an endless pit of loneliness, insecurities, and emotions.

 

She was in wonderland, a hallucination,

a side-effect of what she had she breathed in.

 

She met a deranged man with a top hat

and a long coat covered with

patches and watches and pockets full to the brim

with the befuddled thoughts of psychopaths. 

 

The man with the top hat

asked the girl with the blue eyes, “Who are you?”

“Alice.”

He shook his head.

“That was then. This is now.

Time is of the essence, dearie.”

 

And she lost her last ounce of sanity

and she stomped the ground

and the teacups on the table fell

and shattered.

 

The cat smiled.

 

He called for guards and they came in a tornado—

no, not playing cards,

but the chains and shackles of her addictions,

locking her wrists,

tying her down to the nonsensical world—

 

and in front of her appeared a woman.

 

Face covered by a red veil,

the woman waved her hand,

and two doors appeared.

 

One door held the real world,

the very world that the girl

with the blue eyes

wanted to escape,

a broken heartless world where

she didn’t belong,

or at least she was told so by

the girls who whispered “slut”

and the boys who whistled and jostled her.

 

The other door revealed a colorful garden,

bright colors making her head swirl,

like the teapot ride in Disneyland, but at least,

at least she could pretend she was happy there.

 

She thought, any world,

even the sickening bewildering fringes of Wonderland,

was better than the real world.

 

Once upon a time,

I knew a girl with the blue eyes.

And she didn’t climb up the rabbit hole.

 

A fairytale, a screwed up tale, a messed up tale,

well, this fairytale began like a grandfather clock.

Wheels turning too fast,

pendant swinging frantically,

and time wrapped around the girl,

plunged her into a coma that lasted for 8 years—

just because she felt she didn’t belong,

Time and the White Rabbit had confused her,

once, I knew a girl with blue eyes—

 

Once upon a time, the end.