Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a little(ish) girl. And she was indifferent.

She loved it.

Nobody could bother her.

Or get on her nerves.

Or hurt her feelings.

Or annoy her.

Then one day, jealous of her contentment, an evil witch cursed her to feel.

And she did.

And she’s been struggling ever since.

She was affected by the tiniest of things.

The smallest of words.

The weirdest of situations.

And nothing she did, made her feel better.

No damned prince did, either.

So her battles she kept to herself.

Quiet. Still. Silent.



Hues of crimson
Patches of indigo
Spills of ruby
Tainted her exterior.

The warmth of the trickle runs across her arm
Turning course on her wrist
Winding around the curve
And finally falling off her thumb.

A sense of relief
Oceaned her sunken psyche.
Lungs expand
Air rushing in.

Beads of sweat birth
Her forehead shines in the dusk.
Her eyes flood
But she doesn’t blink.

She doesn’t feel grief.
She feels respite.
The blade sets her soul untaken.
She feels control.

Control on her life.
Control on her body.
Control on her mind.

She wants to escape.
Run free.
Run wild.

But a force chains her.
Chains her spirit.
Chains her will.

So she sits back.
And waits.
For courage to rescue her.