Let’s take back the stories read to us at bedtime.
Grab a pillow and smother our stepmothers,
Take a baseball bat to our fairy godmother
And shove the glass slipper where the sun doesn’t shine.
We’ll hit up the big bad wolf for hits of pot
And spend our nights out with the fairies, just because.
I’m neither a Prince nor am I Charming, but I never said I was.
I’m not the beauty, the beast, a frog, or a witch—really, I’m not.
I’m just a guy and so are you, and we don’t have any stories,
We don’t fit in children’s books too easily
Unless we’re the monster behind the closet door.
We’re ignored if not outlawed, without heroes or histories.
But if I take pen in hand, and you take one in yours,
We’ll create a way to live ever after, happily.
BONUS: Listen to the song that inspired this sonnet: Ever After, Happily by Jay Brannan
