My life is an excuse for fairytales
Born under a deep blue sea of stars, I opened my eyes to first see the mountains far away and blue-why are they so blue?-I’ve never before heard the sound of wind whistling past them, tasting like sand and water-mud?-feeling like soft fingers running across my virgin skin…
The bright, warm sun was first to bathe me
Why did they call me Phoenix if I was born in Chandler?
I never said that I believed in fairy tales
But, sometimes I wonder if someday a story or novel would be written about me and I would be the princess…
Wouldn’t that be one supercalifragilisticexpialidocious sight?!
A story written but never read…
And then the ADD kicks in and I wonder… “Isn’t it funny how the older a person gets the more expensive it is to keep them alive?”
Ahh, I sigh, the simple road of life!
But! I am pinned to the ground by screaming butterflies
And yet…I smile at my misfortune…
Phoenix stop! Just…Just shut. Up
Someday the world is gana look at you and shake their heads, quietly tsk-tsking
And still the raging sky bellows your name!
Someday, Phoenix, the world will be yours, even all of the plants and stars and the entire universe will be lost in your hands!
Viva! Viva la Vida!
Life cries I do!
Ahh, but shh…
Fairytales don’t always have a happy ending.
