I am a fairytale going wrong.

I used to be a thought soft from the heart of a blossom blooming on a warm summer night.

Twilight stains my cheeks.

I am the neon lights in the letters advertising a motel where humanity goes to decay. To sate a hunger that will not be appeased.

The last flicker of a dim bulb before it loses its life and gives in to the seduction of the darkness. A grand house by the highway with the lights of, dark and abandoned despite its grandeur.

The lone star that makes supplications to the sky for mercy from the clouds so that its shine can reach those who may watch for it.

My hands clutch my words in my palm and ink touches my fingers blue. What love is there in the tar sealed roads that lead to no particular place and I am the red in the leaves of trees that are just beginning to realize autumn.

Happy endings and prince charmings and maidens in the first blush of innocence were traded for a moment. One moment that lingers and the sun sets in my eyes.

Morning will remain a fable. The fairytale is at an end and the song sung now is a dirge.