She is a queen wearing nothing but a dollar store tiara and
a hope for a nation
She daydreams of policies found on kinder garden walls: Be
Nice, Respect Others, Have Fun
She knows every character in her head by name
Why she swallowed the pills we can always ask but she can
never answer
Did she demystify her own fairy tale into what it was
Did her soul swallow them, tired of being disappointed with
the human gap between potential and reality, and take her body with it
Did she tire of finding no one else willing to dance to the
tune of their own kazoo
Now she is in a kinder garden
Of smooth stone and small letter t’s and flowers
And well-trimmed grass
A garden of equidistant members
Standing
Waiting
For an end that’s already come
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