poison princess

by Allister Nelson

Did you get everything you wanted, Briar Rose? Two

suckling babes at your breast, a blind prince who

found his sight again in your roses, seeds of the

dog thorns and wolfbane fructifying your virginal

womb?

When he climbed into the tower and slayed your

dragon, did you mourn that black beast’s death? When

he slid inside your womanhood as you slumbered in the

stars, did you know something of love planted in the

unconscious, and tell me, Sleeping Beauty, what did it

feel like to make love asleep yet awake?

Floating through life from princess to captive to fool? We are

flowers, we bloom, we decay, we become queens with only

our thorns left to guide us long after our petals have

withered. Let your briars be your crown, my mourning

dove, let he who guides you out of the tower father

your babes, for otherwise, you would fall without

Rapunzel’s locks to guide you, and raising legends

blessed by good fairies is like seeing your heart

reflected in pools of moon.

Did you get everything

you expected, Briar?

Is he everything you thought a

prince would be?

Or is the dragon still there haunting

the watchtower of your mind, licking your tears away

with a burning tongue as you are paralyzed by nightmares?

To be cursed is to be whole, don’t you know, my love?

I am writing this to myself to begin again, and the

captive princess inside me needs to heed this advice:

Prince Charmings are deceiving, and sometimes, it is

better to stay walled up, but we cannot help ourselves,

for we are coated in red and prickles, and whenever we

make love to ourselves,

we prick our finger on spindles,

so to love yourself is to kill yourself, and to bear the

flame of fairytales is to become mother to multiplicity.

Do you have the courage to come down from Migdal Eder?

Can you walk out of that enchanted forest brow proud,

breasts high, pride intact?

Where does our story begin again?