Fairytales A jack-in-a-box waiting to be cranked A wand waiting to grant a wish A tutu to cover the too, too many handprints on her legs Twirling around endlessly like the ceiling fan above her head Around a train track, a train that is missing a wheel She plays dress-up to cover up how she feels Clipping one by one all her bows in her ringlets, Trying to forget the one that’s missing She dives under her bed, suddenly hiding from monsters and the boogeyman, Knowing she shares their hiding spot She builds towers with legos, ties a cape around her scrawny neck Singing no one can touch me now. She dives into her buried treasure chest, pulls out her pixie-dust and ballerina costume. She dances on her toes Sprinkling pixie-dust on her bed, On her moonlit window, not daring to look out. She plugs in her flufferfly lights, sending a prayer for them to watch over her. She runs to her bedazzled mirror, looks at her child-like figure Glances at her stained hands and mouth and begins to cry She puts on another tutu, a crown Prances in her stockinged feet Anything to cover up the handprints Exhausting herself, she crawls into bed She closes her eyes and drifts, Hoping for fairytale dreams to take her away.