
Reads
About Indie, love triangles, and destruction
Not about Ninjas
Faces
Of fabulous inventions
Scrap paper poetry
The Girl
Is trying to figure out who she is one day at a time.
more?
Loves
Frowns on
Disclaimer
EXit if you hate it.
Awaitress
...written on 2008-09-25, @ 10:20 p.m.
I dropped my ball, large and golden, down that great big well. What was I expecting, a frog prince? A lesson in charity? I'm not really sure either. All I know is that I stared into the glowering depths of that well for days, months, not moving for a second as I waited desperately for its return. For some miracle, some fairytale, some sign that all was right with the world.
So there I laid, wasting away, by the well. Too tired to move, too sick, too weak.No princes came. No hearts were tossed at my feet.
I took the last of my strength and flung myself into the chasm. I found my frog there, waiting at the bottom with that great gold ball, waiting for a princess to save him too. Fools to the fairytale.