Another page is ripped away from a book I clung to for far too long,
a fairy tale story of a girl who had never-ending quests to fulfill,
and a string of dragons to slay for everyone who crossed her path.
Yet the demands of being a princess ever beckoned,
to be fair, true, and vulnerable to love’s twisted illusions,
while blood still dripped from her trying-to-hide battle-scarred hands.
How can one be both savior and damsel in distress?
Daisy-chains braided into my hair as a child were never to be the uniform for a lifetime,
even though I think I hung to the significance of those wispy, wild flowers myself,
painting one into my skin around a name never truly my own.
Perhaps that was my attempt to re-write the plot twists,
or at least give this girl a different kind of ending.
Delicate (live) :: Damien Rice