You've gotten too close.
Now my filigree is flaking away
And you can see
That I'm made of iron,
Not gold;
Fairies can't touch iron.
The cookie crumb trail
You left behind you
Has been snapped up by crows
And now you have two options:
The girl who you can't touch
Who wanted so badly
To be gold
Or to venture out in the cold
And hope you know
Your cardinal directions.
No cardinals live in these woods.
It is all steel and glass
And you should have listened
To your mother.
It's funny how the fairy tales
Work out, isn't it?
And you thought you knew it all.
YOU ARE READING
hush (a collection of my poetry)
Poetrylet it be quiet if just for a moment. not silent just quiet. listen to your breathing and your heartbeat and the world outside the window close your eyes and take a breath. appreciate the puddles of silence as much as the street of sound. app...
