So Much For a Happy Ending

Once upon a time in AP English we were charged with the task of writing Pantoums. A pantoum is a style of poetry where the poem is divided into quatrains and the first and third line of one quatrain become the second and fourth line of the quatrain that follows it. I felt that for some reason I should take this chance to exploit fairy-tale princesses and this poem was born. Enjoy. 

Fairy tale endings aren't always what the seem.

The princesses get lonely while Charming is saving the day.

Far far away, Rapunzel’s tower is beginning to lean.

After all, even the innocent Aurora had a roll in the hay.

The princesses get lonely while Charming is saving the day.

Cinderella instead prefers the boy at the liquor store.

Even the innocent Aurora had a roll in the hay,

And Snow White’s lover count is up to four.

Cinderella instead prefers the boy at the liquor store

And Ariel has learned how to get those land boys to beg

While Snow White’s lover count is up to four.

Cinderella watches and consumes another keg.

And Ariel has learned how to get those land boys to beg.

She ends up seducing all the other Charmings.

Cinderella quietly watches and consumes another keg,

Her raucous behavior has become quite alarming.

Ariel ended up seducing all the other Charmings,

But what of Pocahontas, the Indian Princess?

HER raucous behavior has become quite alarming.

She could be described as a harlot. (At best.)

And what of Pocohantas, the Indian Princess?

Don’t you hear about Tinkerbell anymore?

She could be described as a harlot, at best.

She took lessons from Snow White on how to score.

Don’t you hear about Tinkerbell anymore?

She ended up getting with the seven little men.

She took lessons from Snow White on how to score.

And two years later, they numbered ten.

“She ended up getting with the seven little men?”

“Yup, that’s what they told me,” Jasmine said.

“And two years later, they numbered ten.”

Aladdin is confused, so he scratches his head.

“Yup, that's what they told me,” Jasmine said

As she explained to Peter Pan

How Aladdin got confused, so he scratched his head

When Genie and Aboo told him Jasmine had left for Never Never Land.

As Jasmine was explaining to Peter Pan,

Belle was off wondering how she had fallen in love with a dog.

Genie and Aboo were explaining to Aladdin that Jasmine had left for Never Never Land

And Belle was wandering around in a fog.

Belle wondered how she had fallen in love with a dog

Was it his spots? But how would that make him good in bed?

Belle was lost in a thickening fog.

How did this happen to me? Did I get hit in the head?

Was it his spots? But how would that make him good in bed?

All the princesses have followed Guinevere’s lead.

(Except Belle who is still lost in a thickening fog).

And found all tier Lancelot’s at the bottom of a cup of mead.

All the princesses have followed Guinevere’s lead

And far away Rapunzel’s tower begins to lean

And she too found Lancelot at the bottom of her cup of mead

Fairy tale endings aren't always what they seem.

There Will Come a Time

There will be days when you wonder why everyone gets a mother and you don't.
Days when you'll look up at the sky and wonder what it was you did to make God do this to you.
You'll hear other kids talk about how great their mom is or what awesome job their dad has and a little part of you will die.
You'll go home depressed, and maybe lay alone in your room and cry,
Pissed that she abandoned you, asking yourself why he never took the time to say goodbye
And everyday going over the last time you saw them,
The eternal question playing in your mind.
Why?

Why didn't you say that you loved them when you had the chance?
Why won't they come back and hug you one last time?
Why won't they tell you they love you more than life itself?
And why, more than anything, did they have to leave?
Was there something you could have done differently to make them stay?
Could you have stopped the cancer?
Convinced her to stop drinking?
Begged him to stay, told him you would be better?

The answer is no.
Because her death and his walking out have nothing to do with how many dogs you walked or four leaf clovers you picked.
Falling asleep in church didn't cause the cancer and crying over spilt milk didn't chase your father away.
And even though you get a lump in your throat during that one part in Mars Needs Moms, you couldn't have stopped fate.

There will be days when you feel like you're drowning in depression,
The dark sea only spitting you out long enough to fill your lungs with enough happiness to keep you from dying.
But remember even when you're underwater you're on your way
Sometime and it may be soon or far away, you'll graduate from all of this
From the school of survivors, with a class of human more understanding than the rest.

There will come a time when you realize you've tasted death and how valuable life is
So even though you get scared at night during thunder storms and no one comes to tuck you in and hug you until its over, you'll make it.
You will find people worth filling the hole in your heart with.

There will come a time when you can be happy again.

My Killer Hair

My mane devours hair ties.
It chews up ponytail holders and spits them out.
When hair ties get put in my hair, they know they're tying hair on borrowed time.
No longer will they be worn around wrists,
traded among friends,
or hide in the corners of my duffel bag purses,
they sign that all away when they realize its my scalp they're approaching.

"Give my love to Janice, I hear she's Katy Perry's favorite hair tie,
Give my no-slip grip dress to Charice,
She's next."

My hair is to hair ties what The Fates are to man.
Once I purchase a new package, the string is cut short.
None last more than two hours before being torn in half,
And I, desensitized to the masses of casualties from my hair,
Toss lifeless hair ties into the garbage can, never to tie again.

"Murderer!" Hair ties scream at me while they strain to secure my 'do.
"I'm sorry," my hair whispers back. She knows not what she does.

My mane weeps as a green victim tightly wraps itself around a messy bun.
"Never let me go." The hair tie cries.
"I promise." Says my hair, even more voluminous than usual.
My hair is big, because its so full of lies.
And then, the last hair tie breaks.

My hair is a murderer and the body count just keeps growing.

My Daddy Walks on Water

My father is a gazelle, and he floats on water. Correction. He walks on grass like he’s walking on water. He doesn’t just walk, he glides, each step taking him farther from me and closer to an unseen goal. He’s discovered the mystery behind Jesus’ methods and I don’t think faith is behind it. My father’s no holy figure, but everyday he turns water into Kool-aid and heals wounds with band-aids. My father may be the only miracle worker I have ever known. My daddy is a magician. One time he showed me the great disappearing trick. 15 years later, I’m still waiting for him to come back.

But from farther down the road I can hear him calling to me. “Sissy, you can walk on water, too.”

And so I take my first steps, tentative at first, and then firm and unfailing, knowing that I will not fall. And I yell back to him, unsure of whether or not he can hear me, but eager to tell the world anyways.

I walk on grass like I’m walking on water, each step is taking me a bit farther down this road called life, and closer to my goal with each step that I make, a stereotype I break. Most people tell me that I will never make it, well, excuse me, but please explain my success, tell me, did I fake it? I’m just following these footsteps in the grass, and when I get scared I hold my own hands, because uh. Sometimes you have to be there for yourself, after all, sometimes no friends show up when the rest of the world walks out. I’ve remained strong in spirit and I’ve done it on my own, excuse me daddy, but I’ve got to walk on my own road.

I hope he understands, because I am his daughter, but I am not his choice. I do not embody every decision he has ever made, because I make my own.