Thu, 08/31/2017 - 01:40 -- ttax

A lonely tower half a mile high

no door, no ladder, no escape.

A window where no bird could see

the endless pacing, turning, pacing.


Where was her prince

when anguished mutters turned to screams

under the relentless glare of the sun and the clouds and the stars

That wouldn't answer her prayers no matter how long she begged.


Where was her prince

When the tallies on the wall marched onward across the dull expanse

Of the wall she could see just as well with her eyes closed.


And where was he

When the names of those who forgot her turned bitter in her mouth

And when even the bitterness turned to dust

And the names dissolved upon her tongue until she couldn't be sure

Who was the mother and who the maid

The brother or the hero of a book

When the only name left was her own

Chanted endlessly

until it lost all meaning

until it too turned to dust

And floated out that goddamn window.


And when the prince did come

Shining armor on a restless horse

How much of a princess

Was left?



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