When She Kissed the Frog

He was slimy, although he did his best to hide it.  Full of charming smiles and flirtatious compliments, he wooed all in his path.  

But then you got closer.  

And that slicked back hair was dripping with gunk.

And his breath reeked of sewage.

And his beautiful tan skin was soaked with the tears of others.  

But even as mucus dripped from that sly mouth, and his skin shriveled from the salt left to dry, she took his face in her hands and kissed him.


He was green, although he did his best to hide it.  He dressed stylishly and spoke melodically.

But he could not disguise his true color.

Hands that were dyed green from the ink of stolen bills.

Skin tainted the color of the drugs he used.

Face tinged with shades of violent jealousy that never seemed to fade

But even as his sticky hands reached into her purse, and his green jealousy was taken out on her, she took his face in her hands and kissed him.


She was pure, and there was no way to hide it.  Full of good intentions, she lovingly allowed his green, slimy self into her heart.

But she could not fix him.

She couldn’t wash out the color soaked into his skin, it went bone deep.

She couldn’t clean the muck oozing from his pores, he was secreting it.

She couldn’t turn him back from frog to prince, because he never was one to begin with.

But even as her scrubbing and washing turned her hands green and got slime in her hair, she took his face in her hands and kissed him.


His mouth ruined her’s and with each kiss, each touch, she rotted.  

Her beautiful pristine soul became a murky polluted swamp, a perfect environment for him to flourish.  

To her, he was a prince.

But to him, she was a fly.  




He consumed her and hopped along, searching for the next foolish princess willing to kiss a frog.

And she was left in the mud.

Covered in leftover slime.

Green dye scattered carelessly all over her weary body.

Because dirt doesn’t disappear.

And you cannot try to clean something without getting something else filthy.



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