truth in fairy tales

the fallen queen enchants

cupid’s arrow meant to lead to love

to do the opposite–

lead her to the one she most hates.

razor golden tip turns to wicked black.

she nocks the arrow, lets it fly

fly, fly, through the silent forest

through the stillborn air

through the doors of her castle

stabbing the silver mirror

cracking her reflection into a million shards.

I am the queen.

I am the mirror.

I don’t need an arrow to tell me

who my heart hates most.

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