Mending a Broken Fairytale

Once upon a time I would have said "no"

but I wasn't in control,

and I never was in control. Because when you pinned me down in the cold dungeon you call a bedroom, there was no escape.

See, this wasn't a 'save the princess and become a hero' roleplay,

because in this situation I didn't feel like a damsel in distress,

I felt like the villan:

dirty, used, guilty

Covered in the pieces of my broken heart, you left me there. Alone.

I was convinced that you loved me, that we would get married and live happily ever after.

But, this isn't a fairytale.

You're not my prince charming, and I am sure as hell certain I don't need you to rescue me.

And here's where you're wrong, see this isn't your story,

It's mine.

And I will not let your name tarnish the good reputation of my precious pages any longer

This is MY story, and from here on out I create the chapters.

Oh, and as for you,

You'll be nothing more than a bump in my yellow brick road,

Because you should know by now

Villans always finish last.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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