Only Sleeping
When normality collided
with nightmare,
it cast a spell on Beauty.
To all observation,
in the aftermath,
she remained animate,
stitched and birthed
and stewed, while searching
for the antidote
in her children’s satchels,
her doctor’s pads,
in strangers’ eyes.
Eating at her mind
the hex poisoned
tongue’s speech, leaving only
a language of venom.
Years passed. She had become
a shadow. Witches, sawbones,
and shrinks despaired.
No prince arrived.
Elaine Bentley Baughn, MS, LMFT
Author, 5 Rules for Drama-Free Living
https://elainebentleybaughn.wordpress.com
I Walk with a Limp 