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I wanna’ tell you all a story-
About a young princess who was born with her crown in her hand and not on her head
Whose fairytale stories consisted of praying to God each night that her father wouldn’t be dead
The story begins with a needle piercing his veins and filling his life with false glee
Heroin loved his veins, cocaine loved his nose, and it was all for the will to be free
Every night the princess would sit at her window and watch her father falter below
At a tender age of seven she understood this is something he himself only could outgrow
When the nights ended and the demons left his body, he would return to his dwelling
Instead of a loving and heartfelt reunion, the castle would erupt in the most boisterous yelling
And the princess would sit on her throne and watch the queen run away with bruises and tears
She could hear her scream in agony from the pain that sat in her heart for so many years
And the young princess would cringe from the screams and the sounds of the king’s fists hitting skin
So the young princess did what any child did and yearned for the happy life of “could have beens”
And as time tic’d, the princess grew to become a queen who knew nothing of true love
For true love to her was only what romance books and movies speak of –
The queen began to follow the path of love that was taught to her as child
To her, love was pain, love was abuse, and love was nothing short of living wild
She became her father’s child and chased revelry down with a bottle of death
And with her crown swaying in her inebriated hands and corrosion on her breath
You could hear her hurtful voice shivering in the wind–
“I am a woman who you all look at with concern,
You pity this woman but know nothing until it’s your turn
What is it like being called beautiful first by your father, I wouldn’t know…
Does it make you feel special inside, does that feeling ever go?
Do you know the story of the princess whose crown was placed in her hands?
And she searched for the definition of love all throughout the lands?
I am the woman that has found man after man searching for that void
And with each failure to find it, a piece of me has been destroyed
You think you know the sorrows, you think you know my truths
Then answer why did I deserve to have such a poisonous youth?”
Without receiving the answers, she faltered away like her father once did, barely able to stand
Innocent shades of broken eyes and a rusted crown shaking in her handheartbreak