She woke up to find her happily ever after had morphed;
This version had hard edges and harsh fluorescent lights.
Like a cruel joke where someone rips the pillow from beneath your head,
Twas a rude awakening, indeed.
Each morning, she recalls anew the series of unfortunate decisions:
She never planned on forever but somehow fell head first into this cesspool of mediocrity.
She gave up on feeling celebrated, regal, and cherished,
Sold the dream for a one-way ticket out of the present.
Fear looks a lot like bravery when you’re fiending for a change.
Now that brave face stares down a road of unending strife;
Those brave hands wring resentment from the party clothes that mask her pain.
And each day ends with tear-spiked tea and little less of her soul.