Wait, maybe that’s not my story.
Maybe I tumbled into a fairytale out of place
And fell for the Evil Queen.
Dared her to bite me.
She looked at me like prophecy,
Like something forbidden yet already hers.
Her touch burned like a promise,
A slow, unraveling curse.
She gazed into her mirror,
A reflection of both truth and ruin.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,”
Her voice a poison wrapped in sweet lies.
The crown upon her brow dripped with sorrow,
A reminder of those who dared to love her too late.
Her ribbon, dark as night,
Twisted around my neck like a lover’s embrace.
Seductive magic, a tightening bind,
Pulling tighter, pulling deeper,
Until the world itself was nothing but her.
Rather young or old, I’d still fall for her—
Her dark crown, her blood-red lips,
Each making me fall even harder.
She shed her years like a serpent’s skin,
All to trick Snow White,
But in the end, it was me who was lost.
I don’t need seven dwarfs or a charming prince
With a first love’s kiss—
All I need is her.
Her kiss, her poison, her throne,
A love that wraps around my throat
And leaves me breathless, begging for more.
She traced a blade along my skin,
Asked if I was afraid,
But I only smiled—
Because fear had never felt so much like worship.
In her eyes, I saw the world fall away—
A dark kingdom, a twisted reign,
Where love and ruin were the same.
Maybe I saved her,
And she saved me,
Not in the way heroes do,
But in the way night saves the stars,
Giving them a place to shine in the dark.
Maybe love is just another kind of poison,
But apples aren’t the only way to fall.
And maybe we all lived happily ever after…
After all.
-- Sierra H., Adult
-- Sierra H., Adult