I’d dream of you arriving in the pumpkin carriage, smiling in that cobalt dress while tiptoeing in your glass shoes. Magical as the night would be, however far you wander, I’d always find you again.

I’d travel the world just to hear your voice once more. It wouldn’t matter if you were the beauty and I, the beast, or how some witch might try to tear us apart. I’d fight the maleficent then kiss you awake, and we would live happily ever after.

I’d dream of us as a fairytale, but find myself awake as the clock strikes 12 only to find that you’re not here,

and then I’d realise that I’m no prince, and fairytales don’t exist.

Thin Ice

Bare feet, and the instant sensation
from beneath my sole tickles,
the cold sent shivers, my toe tingles
at the rejuvenation of passion.

I walked, I ran and then I glided
before I knew with you I collided
and for a bit I stood entranced
then asked your hand for just one dance.

You smiled and said you had to go
you left me out there in the cold
your eyes they told me otherwise
you chose to live inside your lies.

Cold feet, I felt the breaking ice,
too late to turn, too late to learn.
Looked down I saw the coldest burn,
loving you was like thin ice.