Broken Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, someone

tried to turn the negative into a positive,

but in life, it never worked out so well,

except on a page.

The people around were unique characters.

Not humans, but monsters, straight from hell,

where they learned to elude the most important matters -

those causing damage to others, not to themselves.

They insisted on imposing their worldview

on others, inhabiting a different realm,

a reality woven from disparate elements.

“You don't need words, you need pity!”

That's been their constant refrain,

explicitly or implicitly stated,

before they returned to their crucial lives.

It made me sick; I threw up in the corner.

I've always been slow to understand things.

I found myself drawn to those who looked down on me.

I read crime fiction to figure myself out.

Exploring the complexities of the human mind.

(Which way is this bus going?)

They didn't tell me a thing, and they didn't need to.

Their actions were more impactful than any bomb.

I had to dismantle every single part of them.

It took me decades of hard work.

They're skilled at hiding secrets,

a talent they've honed since their teenage years.

Mercenaries seize every opportunity

to get what they want,

and then they remove you from their sight.

But I remember every single detail.

It's impossible to forget.

Characters reveal themselves

flawlessly on a page,

asking me to write their stories anew.

This time, however, I'll be the one in control.