My two palms were going to the bottom of my front shirt.
She was staring at me. I still could actually see her eyeballs…wet. They were doubtfully desperate about what had been happening. She said she had been convincing herself that things were whatever although she didn’t want to ever lose her dream of walking to the alley. She wouldn’t care about all the attention she would get for being the most beautiful one on the altar. She just thought that it would be the rightest thing to do. And I made it like that for her.
My hands reached their destination already- holding the bottom of my shirt.
She said she had been writing her own children book since she met me. Her first sentence was: “I guess princes these days come with a long hair and bushy beard. They had undergone a long shift of trend that their swords could take the form a guitar. At least that kind of prince works for me. That kind of prince got my first kiss.’
My hands are lifting my shirt slowly- revealing a belly button.
‘And some prince decides to look different with a round metal as his totem. Special prince is like that.’
And that’s chapter 1. And what would a story book children be without a witch? The witch that had another better prince for her daughter that so happened was not me.
The end front part of my shirt passed my belly button reaching up to my upper stomach.
Open any story book children and it tells you the endevour of a prince for his love. Read their struggles of making things possible. Wouldn’t I? I did!
And I lifted my shirt higher.
‘The prince travelled far to rescue the princess.’
I spritually travelled farther that I had ever thought I could afford. ‘The prince knightly led a battle for the princess.’
Haven’t I? And my family left me.
‘The prince bled and presented a happily ever after for the princess.’
And a tattoe of a cross was on my body stayed for her to see.
I guess some princes failed.