The window was open in the ballroom. Tickling the necks of onlookers, the breeze pushed her hair off her face.
As Prince Charming danced with his suitor, all of a sudden, the room stopped.
Unlocking the phony bond made between stranger’s hands, he let go of his suitor, and approaches his destiny.
“Dance with me,” he whispers in her ear.
They float. Snares and base drums were no match for the intensity their hearts. They dance.
“Kiss me?” he asked, “Midnight,” she replied.
When the song ended, he asked her name, “Cinderella,” she answered in a soft, yet matured, sound. “Cinderella, hunh? Sounds like we belong together.”
She giggled, and they talked for hours. Glancing down at her feet he saw clear slippers. Reminded of a story he heard his whole life, he asked, “Are you really thee Cinderella?”
Hope filled his eyes while he waited for her reply. “I…” she says, “Stop.” he interrupts her. He already knew, he had dreamed about this moment.
Running over to his father he expressed his joy. “Father, I know it is her, please tell me, am I right?”
“Yes.” answers the King, “But you have to make it through the end of the night.”
At the top of the steps entered another. Housing the grace of a horse past its prime, Prince Charming saw something different.
11:55. He wanted to get to know her. They talked.
11:56, 11:57, 11:58, 11:59.
Cinderella sat, looked on, still content. Another called her by her name, “Cinderella, kiss me.”
Midnight.
Hearing the loud interruption. The prince made haste to his feet. Dashing back to the place her left her, frantic, screaming for her. “Cinderella! Cinderella! I came back.”
Shocked, looking on in dismay, with another, Cinderella faded away.
Walking over to his son, the King asked, “How does it feel to know you had Cinderella, but could not wait until the end of the ball?”
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
I am...
Little girl is what they'll call you. But it is a woman who will respond.
Who gave a man a right to force a little girl to grow up? Remember, puberty won't let you keep believing in fairy tales, and once you realize that the boogie man is a man too, you're more afraid of the man than the boogie.
Sexual abuse involves two people whose lives will never be the same. The victim will always wonder what they did wrong. Was I too pretty? Did I smile too much? Should I have been like my sisters? He didn't do it to them.
What do you tell her, or him, to make them see past a momentary physical pain that torments, stalks and weighs on your heart, emotions and self-worth for what seems like forever.
You tell them to forgive.
What do you tell him, or her, who found themselves so weak, they they needed power of a child's body to validate their lack of self-worth. Searching for what they feel entitled to, they take control. In that ephemeral moment, they is no conscience, only desire followed by demise.
What do you tell him when he looks to another to find love and finds out that she felt the victimization of his lowest moment.
You tell him to forgive.
People who have forgiven themselves for their mistakes do not carry the burdens of what they've done. They are testaments that you can change your life.
You are not sexually abused, you were sexually abused. Then you were a victim today you are a victor.
And you are not a sexual abuser. That suggests that is all you are, and ever will be. Remind yourself of who you really are, outside of a moment when you were weak.
My attempt is not to take up for anyone who has sexually abused someone. I know that its pains are many. I am hoping that we will stop labeling people as they worst thing they have done
Who gave a man a right to force a little girl to grow up? Remember, puberty won't let you keep believing in fairy tales, and once you realize that the boogie man is a man too, you're more afraid of the man than the boogie.
Sexual abuse involves two people whose lives will never be the same. The victim will always wonder what they did wrong. Was I too pretty? Did I smile too much? Should I have been like my sisters? He didn't do it to them.
What do you tell her, or him, to make them see past a momentary physical pain that torments, stalks and weighs on your heart, emotions and self-worth for what seems like forever.
You tell them to forgive.
What do you tell him, or her, who found themselves so weak, they they needed power of a child's body to validate their lack of self-worth. Searching for what they feel entitled to, they take control. In that ephemeral moment, they is no conscience, only desire followed by demise.
What do you tell him when he looks to another to find love and finds out that she felt the victimization of his lowest moment.
You tell him to forgive.
People who have forgiven themselves for their mistakes do not carry the burdens of what they've done. They are testaments that you can change your life.
You are not sexually abused, you were sexually abused. Then you were a victim today you are a victor.
And you are not a sexual abuser. That suggests that is all you are, and ever will be. Remind yourself of who you really are, outside of a moment when you were weak.
My attempt is not to take up for anyone who has sexually abused someone. I know that its pains are many. I am hoping that we will stop labeling people as they worst thing they have done
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)