Vous Êtes Belle

by Isabel Perez-Vega

I’m not the princess
That trades her freedom for you life.
You claim your love to be a rose
But all I see are the petals
Scattered on the floor.

No one kisses a big mouth,
You say, when I am honest.
But I’m not trading my freedom
For your love or your sloppy kisses.

I am not the sleeping princess,
In a tower far away, awaiting your rescue,
I am not naïve enough to bite into the
Poison apple you claim is love.
I am not the princess on her knees, cleaning your mess.
I am not trading my freedom
For the promise of tiaras and sweaty hands.

I am as compassionate as a bolt of lightning.
I am as fickle as the ocean,
I am the cold, cold, snow on mountains,
I am the screaming wind, the stormy clouds, the forest fire.

I am a princess,
But I am not a damsel,
Or in distress.

I AM the distress.