last night, I slept with a frog.
yes, he was green and slimy
but he wasn’t you.
Afterwards, he didn’t slam the door
to my unsated face
there was no yelling, crying,
hot-headed hits, threats that
I never really meant, baby, I’m sorry, my
dancing Daisy, I love you.

last night, I forgot our first kiss.
with lips too big for mine, a smile
I always fell for and
hands too rough for my thin arms
you even bruised the bedroom walls, why
did I trust you to hold

anything?

last night, I curved against a new heartbeat.
hidden under a chest
much larger than yours,
it beat and beat and beat against
my ear until mine matched his
too tired to regain its own rhythm.

last night, I gave up on you.
remember when I promised I wouldn’t?
a dangling hook, sharp and much
sexier than I
I saw your eyes widen
like a doe at her daunt
remember when you promised you wouldn’t?

last night, I turned off my fairytale.
I tore off my crown
I was not a princess, and
no little girls looked up to me.
I believed you when
you swore to slay the dragon,
insisting on wrapping my wounds –
smoke you convinced me I dreamed up
rising from your nostrils.