She sits on her throne of empty promises,
Looking down upon the world.
She twists hearts like ribbons through her fingertips—
It’s only a matter of time before they break.
She smiles to herself and glances out the window
At the world of trees and sky and rivers
Patiently waiting to swallow her whole.
She closes her eyes and tilts back her head,
So safe resting in her throne.
She takes another heart to play with—
Her toys help pass the time so easily;
Always another waiting when she grows restless.
The room is silent and so still—
Nothing moves, nothing breathes.
She is all alone now—
And it’s wonderful, she tells herself.
So wonderful.
 
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