Defining the fairytale ending

I like defining words, but sometimes,
it’s hit and miss. Art, for instance.
Means a lot of different things
to many interesting people.
Is everyone wrong? Or is it
right to say, we need a better way.

Or where illness is concerned,
how much is mania, depression,
or the interplay of personality?
Definitions falter and I stumble.
My tongue is thick with swollen regret
that some people can never forget.

Sometimes, I like to watch
the sun stumble over itself.
Dawn, a new day, and yet,
ho same hum, like coffee
watered down, once beautiful;
now dull brown and bitter.

When an old friend greets me with hugs,
kisses, unfeeling fondness, I know
it is one of the good days to deceive him.
Life is so painful, I ache to believe him.
But it’s just fear or confusion; he’s actually hazy.
And if I accept his delusion, I’m close to crazy.

When he calls, it’s one in the morning.
Fear of night terrors means sleep is unyielding.
At two a.m., he wants drink to be his friend,
but it remains unwilling, so by five, he pops
pills instead, until he cannot feel his fear,
praying to his god to please draw near.

Mourning the aftermath, I don’t believe him.
I resent his clinging to the one true god illusion,
as I find him tangled in deadly sins and delusion.
He wants drugs to deceive him from grim reality,
and girls who believe his flawed version of truth.
I find myself trembling for his drug-addled youth.

Since we last parted, when I knew I
could no longer be his friend,
he was alone at the Yarra River.
The blood-deep sunrise mocked me,
but I hoped he could be happy
with the sun in his weary red eyes.

Without a fairytale ending, there was
no chance for genuine connection. His god
of all things never failed to disappoint me;
much as humanity itself disappoints me.
So I rejected nihilism and undue optimism;
this story ends with pragmatism.

Anyway, I never wanted a fairytale ending.

Defining the fairytale ending


Joined March 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 17

Artist's Description

From a former time and place – not at all reflective of my current situation.

Come Away From It – Ani DiFranco

come away
come away from
come away from it

next to the glass ashtray
in a little plastic baggy
is a bitter rock remedy
really good stuff
but i take offense to the fact
that you’re so hell bent
are you trying to tell me this world
just isn’t beautiful enough?

do you want to get off?
is this your stop?
do you gotta have a tripledecker super fudge sundae
with a goddamn cherry on top?
i mean, what makes you so lavish
that you can afford
to spend every sober moment feeling angry and bored

why don’t you come
come away
come away from it

we used to hold hands down
those unfamiliar streets
you used to take me diving
into the watery blue deep
but now you’re trying to find every tiny treasure
every shiny penny of pleasure
satisfy every selfish purpose
before you swim back up to the surface

why don’t you come
come away
come away from it

you think that i just don’t like it anymore
but i’ll tell you what i don’t like
i don’t like that i had to put the training wheels
back onto your bike
and i don’t like the extravagance
or the way you taste when i kiss you
i don’t like being left alone
baby, don’t you think i miss you?

why don’t you come
come away
come away from it

Artwork Comments

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