It is Wednesday night and I
Stumble into a fairy wood
Twinkling little wings
Brush past my cheeks
When they fly past my left ear I can
Hear them giggle
It makes my heart itch.
As I walk deeper into their tiny kingdom
I see two trees, two stubborn maples
Playing chess, their branches pushing
The tiny pieces across the board
Watch out for this move!
Reluctantly I turn
A fairy tucks at my hair and tells me to walk
Walk—! This is not where your destiny is!
So I follow blindly
And my heart beats faster
As I venture deeper
Into this magical heartland that surrounds me.
But it is not perfect. It never is.
Gushes of rotten black cover parts of the ground
Like open wounds
I feel myself trembling when I cross over
If I touch it, it might creep up from my feet again
Like a monstrous slime with a mind of its own
No! This is not where your destiny is!
Those fairies scream at me,
I am falling back, from the accumulating gravity on my flesh
I think I will cry.
Dearie! Dearie! This is not where your destiny is!
I should have buried it long ago.
Dear! Dearie! This is not where your destiny is!
Come and meet your destiny!
So at last
I wander to the End
Of this kingdom
Perhaps it really is
Where my destiny is
But probably not
There is no time in this fairy wood
Here, there is not the sound of ticking
No hours passing
Just me and my fairies
And my wounds.
Come and meet your destiny! Dearie! Dearie!