It wasn’t my parents’ fault. Indeed,

I was the one

Who sent myself

Into a hundred years sleep,

Allowed the vines to crawl around the concrete walls,

And summoned that dragon to guard the palace gates.

I just don’t want to get hurt.

I don’t want anybody to get hurt.

Yes, you can say that I’m quite selfish.

But I didn’t mean for the whole village to be hung up

At my passing. I didn’t mean for the princes to rescue me

From this state. My sleep is not a curse.

It’s a cure- a spell of keeping myself

From the grief that I know will someday kill me.

I’m just being cautious.

You see, my heart is that fragile-

Hypersensitive to pain. But also to the little pleasures like

A love’s first kiss.

I don’t want to get used to it. To the point that my heart will wear out

Like the hems of my dresses.

Maids tell me that it’s not easy to mend things that are already tattered.

We get wounded in the process of sewing

And Momma only sees it as a waste of time

She tells me that there is always an end to things

So it’s better to buy new sets than continue on

Wearing something that slowly decays.

After all, not all endings are perfect and beautiful

Like sunsets

So rather than see my tapestry end, I just chose not to unravel it yet.


2 thoughts on “Aurora

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