Mom said when I was young that boys just want to kiss you.

A kiss?

Like a prince. Like the kiss that woke Sleeping Beauty and Snow White. Maybe I'm asleep.

A kiss.

Like a declaration of  true love. More real than a ring. More symbolic than a dove.

If he wants a kiss then he must be a prince, must he?

He must want to slay the dragon and wake me from this nightmare I've put myself in.

A nightmare I didn't know I was in until I realized it was a nightmare because I didn't have him.

My prince.

A kiss?

That's all it takes when the dragon has been slain and the spell surely breaks. A kiss.

But Mom she also said,

that when he takes a kiss he takes a piece of you too. And being a princess you know it can't be true.

So here's a kiss, and my heart but I'll take it all back,

because the dragon's not dead, no, he's poised to attack. 

But when I pry my heart from the hands of this pseudo-prince I realize mom was right. It's ripped.

A kiss here. One there. 

Take another piece. Tear, tear, tear.

This heart that used to belong to me has become somewhat of a charity.

I'll keep what I have left.

I don't need a prince. I'll live with my dragon, and my heart that's ripped.