I'll be the Little Princess

I want a star.

I want it dull and only visible to those who know where it is.

I want it perfectly above me, I want to see it twinkle

until my last dying breath.

I want it big and blue,

this star, so it matches my eyes

even in the dark when you can’t see them. I want to look out my window

pretending to not hear his soft snores in the bed

that he always swears I make up in the morning

Pretending that the pregnancy test from this morning was faulty. Pretending

that he might actually be excited when I tell him and that I’ll be happy too.

I want to go to bed knowing this house is full of love.

Instead of always pretending.

I want that star bad.

I want it to promise

what I know I’ve read in books. About

girls and happy endings

and about princes in outer space loving roses.

When the time comes, I’ll sneak out to the woods where I’ve hidden

my supplies. I’ll look up and smile at the tallest tree

climbing it all the way up to my star.

And I’ll live there.

Waiting for my own rose to grow.