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I was asleep for years,
Before I met him,
Put under a spell,
Like sleeping beauty I had fell,
Dreaming of a prince to enchant me with his spell,

I lived in terror of my dreams,
A fear of a witch upon me loomed,
As tales are told of witches roam,
Casting spells to own the souls,
Stealing voices to self preserve!
But there he was, to my surprise,
My prince dressed up in shining armor, gallantly appeared
Galloping to me on a tamed wild white mustang, reaching out his hand
To lift me up atop the horse, without a second thought,
I reached up to him convinced his love would bring me back to life,
Thus, off to we went to his castle that he made.

Alas, I didn’t awake but dreamt of him throughout the day.
He gave me medicine to take,
Telling me it would be of help,
As time went on, he kept me cribbed
Within the castle walls that he had built.

As to further on his sted of stealing me,
Charming brought me to specialists’, to see
Telling them of my paralysis and sleep,
The doctors of the mind did give,
Pills of various, shapes, and sizes, hues array,
I took the capsules with gleeful hope
That my heart would melt into a whole.
Instead the drugs turned me trape,
Sending me into a daily haze of muted sleep,
I never felt.

The fear of witches roamed deep within me, still
Suffocating me in my nightly sleep,
As time stood still, within this castle he had built.

Within my unsightly sleep,
I couldn’t see the witch, that hunted me,
Was me!
Hunting me with warnings from dusk to day,
That the prince was cunning,
He was nothing,
But a wolf hidden inside sheep’s clothing,
Cheating his way, to be.

I clung on still, unwilling to see.
The truth behind the cunning wolf,
The prince there still, always, smirking back at me
Alas, no happy ending upon my sight,
As my mind remained torn between the dreams of day,
And of a secret life I could not grasp, hidden inside this nightmare’s realm.

Although eventually the spell did break
Once charming had fulfilled his lust and drank me dry,
His seven year itch, began to itch,
Love for another the prince had found,
That’s when he discarded me, like dregs found inside of yesterday’s trash.

At last! I did awake by seeing the truth of me and him,
The darkness he had cast upon our souls
A tumor bred, poisoning the drinking water of our well.

I wonder still, why I refused to heed,
The warnings I had felt, from deep within,
The truth, behind the witch that I had met,
Were always me, and me alone,
No prince could ever rescue me.
Why did I than, refuse to see,
The truth, the power of me,
Casting myself into a slumber made of ice,
Within this fairytale dream’s demise.

Copyright Diana Kouprina all rights reserved 2024

I envy you.
You who has lost someone so late in life
Your hair is greying and your body is slowing
The agony is all the same
Time is our desperate lover
Always wanting more
Clawing at our deepest parts
Never giving up
When it’s gone we’re left with longing
An hourglass sitting on my desk
Never out of sight
Always there
A reminder of meaningless time
Empty
My hair is still technicolor
My body hasn’t given up yet
I am in perfect condition
But still I am broken
The years keep passing
The pain never lessens
10 years for you
50 years for me
I envy you.
You’ll find them in the blink of an eye
And I’ll be here waiting
Counting every second
Watching life go by
One day I won’t envy you
One day I’ll be whole
Time will leave me alone.

I do not want to die,
but I’m scared I won’t be able to live through this
pain. The thought of my last breath
and the sinking into what’s next
terrifies me because I have so much to live for
and yet
I’m tempted.
Will my body
force
my hand?

In my twenty-six years, death’s threat has never felt
so heavy
as this. This pain won’t
kill me
unless I allow it,
and I’m scared
of myself. I’m an wolf
with its paw
stuck in a trap—the hunter’s footsteps
approaching,
heavy
with his gun.
I want to chew my own hand off
just so I can fucking do something.
Causing more pain
because it’s already driving
me crazy doesn’t
make sense, but that left
me
a while ago.
I want to quit my job and run
back home.
Destroy my life
in five small minutes
like this small cut
has destroyed
my body.

“I am free as the whistling wind,
As free as the trees that sway,
Into a field of gardens fluorishing,
In a lushful of songs of the wilderness play…
Where I walk forth elated days,
From the vision of a sweet summer flower,
To skies so very blue merry ways…
For I stay succumbed…
Into forever bountiful…
Ever beautiful…
…freedom from here to few and far between place.”

Can you sacrifice
A red heifer to save to
The holy grail on time?

they say i am a feeble lass
i am weak to man,
i am like glass –
i would break,
compared to man,
who is concrete.

let me say, though,
i disagree, vehemently!

because i am not weak.
i am not a feeble lass.
i am not weak.

misogyny is pernicious –
it gives a false narrative,
that i intend to pop like a balloon –

because i am not weak.
i am not a feeble lass.
i am not weak.

my hand has as much dominance as a man’s,
my feet can stand just as straight as a man’s,
my lips can utter the same words as a man’s,
my intellect is as vigorous as a man’s –
because i am not weak.
i am not a feeble lass.
i am not weak.

i said, that girl is dead. he strangled her, and then he left her body in the woods. well, i seriously hope not, said my coworker, and she did sound hopeful but i scoffed. trust me. they’ll find her in a few months, or maybe next spring when the ice melts. the part that i didn’t say out loud- she’s been missing three weeks;

her face is unrecognizable; her knuckles are only useful to crows and coyotes as dice in games of cho-han. they will scatter their game pieces in frustration when vice-bored vultures swoop down toward the mess of her clothes to finish her off. later some unlucky man will be tasked with finding and polishing them, until all

the tiniest pieces of her can be studied like rare agates. until he can tell those of us waiting, for an ending that we know will be tragic, just how terrified she was when she died. or until he can tell you, in any case. i knew well before the coroner did that he strangled her and left her body in grand teton.

Save me an orange
save me an orange, or just a slice
so that I can proceed to ask you in an aloof manner if you’re saving it for someone
and when you say that I could have it
I rush to sit by your side just to ask you how your day went
completely forgetting about the orange in a second
i sometimes wonder if it would have been an apple
I don’t like those but you so much do
or if you wouldn’t have helped me up on the first day of kindergarten and held my hand till we reached class because I was afraid
Afraid to leave my mother and say goodbye to my sister even for a short period of time
I wonder if we would still be friends
if I could get back the same person to save me an orange like you used to everyday at lunch because it was tradition
if we would still talk everyday
if our conversations wouldn’t have turned into head nods
if we asked how we were in passing or when I bump into you at the grocery store every fortnight

but now I find myself afraid often,
without a hand to hold me back.

we left the
wilting sunflowers
at dusk

aged yellow petals
scattered like ashes
open grave

grass fields where
we once picnicked
jam & tomato sandwich
split in two

your hand slipped
from mine
in the fading light

& I knew
we could never return

Once upon a midnight dreary, my cell phone rang, the number leery.
Unwanted pest, this unknown caller, broke my thoughts, with breach uncalled for–
I was hard at work, though nearly napping, when this man commenced kidnapping
all my focus, which now is flapping, flapping from my present chore.
“‘Tis some marketer,” I muttered, “flapping words that only bore–
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was March or cold December;
when I requested every member of my home be called no more.
Eagerly I hoped he’d listen;–I hoped his promise wasn’t fiction
When he said he’d cause no friction calling my house any more–
For the precious do-not-call list I was not on heretofore–
Nameless now for evermore.

I resumed my thoughts and writing though distraction I was fighting
Hoping now–hoping now with doubt and terror never felt before;
Trying hard to still the ire, my full anger still on fire, hoping he was not a liar
When he said he’d lose my number which is what I did implore.
This intruder, rude and selfish, with persistence I abhor.
Peace I want and nothing more.

But my stillness then went plumbing, broken by a call incoming
“Doubtless,” said I, “sure it’s that imp returning with words that I deplore.”
Again, I saw his number and I responded, “Dialing devil!–
Stop this madness or I’ll store your heart beneath my chamber floor–
I’ll wall you up behind bricks ‘til your lungs feel like lead ore.
Call me never, nevermore!”

They were our words of parting, and I hoped silence would be starting
With regard to salesmen pushing through my mail, and phone, and door.
I want my loneliness unbroken. I want no unwanted words be spoken.
What vendors call I’ll render unto the cold Plutonian shore.
Keep thy beak from out my ear and face as once you clearly swore.
Call me never, nevermore!