life's highs gotten by
daydreams
of living television situations
or becoming movie personalities
and the giddyness pink
that becomes me
when these dreams
turn reality.
but sometimes i forget
when sitting in the thickest part
of the plot purple
that the glass slipper had to be lost
and Cinderella returned to rags
before she could live happily ever after,
forget that things can work
but only if the plot moves forward
only if Cinderella rushes down
shows her ash streaked face
unkempt hair
frightened that maybe her foot grew
that the slipper might no longer fit
vulnerable
but still stepping into it
that the story might close
the way
it was meant to.