When I was younger
I believed in fairies.

I believed so vigorously
that their very existence became a part of me.

I could envision their transparent wings
flitting as they moved
and their elegant, hand-stitched dresses
swaying in the breeze.
I believed in their mysterious world
under the willow tree in my back yard
and their parties lite by the moon and the stars.

My mother would hide
tiny notes in size-10 font around the house
all addressed from my friends
the fairies.
I always returned them.
My pen-pals and I
were more than happy.

This was my innocence
and my naivety was bliss;
it was cluelessness
that everyone was okay with. 

The deception was harmless
and when I learned the truth
I was okay with it.

But some deceptions
I wish I remained clueless to.

I wish I could believe
in “happily-ever-afters” again.
But princes in golden ball gowns
and knights on gallant steads
can’t exist
in a world where
girls too drunk
and men too cold
run too Vegas
to be betrothed.  

I wish I could believe
in “love at first sight” once more.
But the classic
boy meets girl
chance encounter at a coffee shop
can’t exist
in a world where
men are too quick to judge
a girl based on her boobs or her butt
and girls are too quick to fall
for a boy
that seems to have the world
in the palm of his hands.

I wish I could believe
that “true love comes to those who wait”
but the sweet sob story
trail of broken hearts
to find the one and only
can’t exist
in a world where
‘I love you’s’ role of the tongue
and sex and babies
come before love.

Deceptions have altered
uncovered truths no longer innocent.
These lies protect a living hope
but these truths tarnish a dying soul. 

There are some things

that I have left unsaid,

but I can’t find the nerve to say them.

Oh, Mother please!
don’t be disappointed when I say:
I can’t stop thinking about him.

My body craves
his trained touch,
and my mind hungers
for his careful words.

Oh, Mother!
Your expectations
for me were higher than this.
But, what can I say?
It is, what it is.

I promised I’d never hide a thing
and so far, I’ve kept with this truth.
But I have a premonition
that soon I’ll have to choose.

Oh, Mother!
Please forgive me.
If I choose lust over truth.
If I choose lies over rules.

But he is something different,
something I have never seen before.
He could be all I want
maybe even more.

Oh, Mother!
I wish not to disappoint you
but I wish not to miss my chance.

All I’ve ever wanted
was a forbidden romance.
Yet all my pride has been
on having no secrets.

But I still want him.

Oh, Mother!
There are some things

that I have left unsaid,

but I can’t find the nerve to say them.

My years-
still too few
to match a score.

Yet,
my mind suffers
from being old too young.

Unable to relate
to my own generation.
Unable to smile, laugh, and love.

My spirit-
reaches out to things too far away,
concepts that no one tolerates.

Yet,
it dreams,
and breaks its own heart anyway.

Unable to conceive
what is wrong with craving something.
Unable to love, hope, and believe.

My heart-
too naive,
has not a clue what it’s doing.

Yet,
it searches for any lovable being
and destroys itself trying.

Unable to attain
a love returned.
Unable to believe, trust, and rationalize.

All these elements
wrapped into one
bundled together,
create someone. 

Someone lost and broken
who needs saving
from someone.