A Ready-Made Disaster.

Cursed upon birth,
avoiding all prophecy.
Shunned to the forest
as a child, unconciously.

No fairy tales,
for the golden-haired queen.
Closeted up,
losing faith in her dreams.

One day, she snapped.
Bit the big one, hit the sheets.
Under that love spell,
she wept all through her dreams.

A kiss drenched in sweat,
fluttered wide the baby blues.
Blade kept beneath her pillow,
just waiting for the cue.

She destroyed that prince,
she destoyed herself.
The closeted princess,
who had lived alone in hell.

Now she's gone,
it's been nearly fifty years.
Still sits a castle,
to keep her in your fears.