Araidne, Let Me Go.

Simply a reflection
on the Queen's
broken mirror.

Seven years bad luck, they say...

A million faces of
me stare back.

Why must I collect them?
Why must I gather those shattered pieces?

Don't you see how they cut
into my hands?
Have you no compassion?

Please, I just want to
let them go.

I ache to bury them
seven feet below the
crashing waves of the ocean.

I want to carry the scars
- they remind me that the
things that last forever
are the ones that hurt the most.

And I am at the center
of your web
that was woven before I knew
my footing was false.

I am your spun silk called chaos.

Dear Ariadne,
let me go.

I am so tired
of these games

Isn't it time
to accept that
my inner child
has grown up?