Poem: Kill Off Cinderella, by Melanie Outman

I met a man once.
He was everything,
everything I was supposed to want.
brought coffee to bed in the morning,
gave massages before I went to sleep,
drew me a bath after a cold winter walk,
held up coats and opened doors,
was thoughtful and listened.
Wanted a life with me.
Wanted me in his life.
All of me,
all of me, it seemed.
and a sparkly karat on the third finger of my left hand.
his hand on my thigh and the other on the steering wheel of a jaguar XJ50.
and a house with a back yard.
and 2 to 4 car seats in the mini van we’ll drive to soccer games and ballet classes
and a Sunday roast every week when he gets back from golf.
He wanted that life and that life was, everything.
And he wanted me
in it.
And Hollywood taught me to want him.
And that.
All of that.
Of course,
what else is there to want?
You’re a fool if you don’t.
What else is there to want?

Well I don’t know,
a life outside of prison maybe?
My greatest misery came from rejecting that perfection.
How dare I betray this rom com bliss?
How dare I not accept God’s gift?
How dare I choose myself over what Hollywood has laid out for me?
How dare I see through what my lover sees in me?
How dare I realize that that’s not love?
How dare I walk away from what could have been?

Did I doubt and hate myself for not being able to “love”?
Did a part of me believe I gave up every chance of ever finding happily ever after?
Did I consider going back and suck up the misery so at least I would fit in?
But guess what,
dazzling diamonds
aren’t worth shit
if you wake up every morning and can’t breathe,
if you look into a man’s eyes and all you see is a Macy’s mannequin who likes it when you wear lingerie
and thinks
that’s who you are.

I killed off Cinderella.
I walked away from a fairy tale that was never gonna be one.
I spiraled into pain and darkness, yes.
Had question marks so threatening that I almost crumbled.

But only that way,
I used my beating heart as a compass.
Tasted freedom I never had a clue existed.
All because,
I murdered the queen of Disney.
She has no place in our stories,
she can’t tell us where to go.
All she is,
is scribbles on a screen and thinks she knows love.
Thinks she knows everything.
I thought,
she gave me everything,
everything that is nothing.
Nothing but a lesson to find in us what only we can see.
If we just,
kill off Cinderella.


Author: poetryfest

Submit your Poetry to the Festival. Three Options: 1) To post. 2) To have performed by an actor 3) To be made into a film.

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