I don’t want to write about pretty things today,
Speak the dumbed down language of Cinderella
Or eat glistening apples that set naive girls to sleep-
I’ve eaten my share of gingerbread house,
Had enough glass slippers slice my feet.
I refuse to braid my hair into fiery plaits
To be torn from my scalp as you climb my tower,
Or lay spinning my straw hour after hour-
Fuck off, lad… I ain’t your princess
I’m going to be the Witch today.