You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness.
//Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum
Imagine this: you are a fair maiden, slight and pure –
trapped high in the tower.
The guards are stiff, their faces hidden by fearsome masks.
Perhaps you could jump, true
But the dragon outside will surely kill you –
that is, if the 300 foot fall doesn’t first.
The guards, though, are only human and
you weep so bitterly and beautifully.
One of them breaks his oath to hear your heart breaking so and –
throws off his mask and carries you away
through wretched tunnels and under the burning dragon.
And, of course, you live happily ever after –
your shining hair a match for his shining redemption arc.
If that’s not quite your style, think of this:
you are lost, deep in the forest with night closing in around you.
The trees are thick and the air is stifling and –
oh, are those red eyes peering at you through the brush,
drawn to your scent of desperation and fear?
But oh, here comes gallant knight to your rescue, just in time.
You can’t help but swoon as he beats back the snarling creatures and
whisk you upon his horse.
You will always recall the way he leaps out, sword blazing and –
oh, that darkness, or that monster, neither one, really
ever stood a chance.
So, yes, of course there is a happily ever after;
his gallantry never fails to make your heart skip a beat.
But perhaps the thought of being a damsel in distress makes you cringe
and, maybe, just the sound of that self important prince
or that self-righteous vagrant makes you want to retch.
So instead you are: a maiden, but more ruddy than fair and –
the pureness is rather debatable.
You smile wickedly every time you see the guards because you know beneath their masks
are deep cuts, flaming and red, courtesy of your repeated scuffles at mealtime.
You leap out of the window when the dragon’s back is turned,
grab onto its neck and try a trick your grandmother always said:
scratch the dragon behind its scaly ears and now –
now it’s pliant in your hands, completely in your control.
You take that dragon high into the air as it burns the tower into the ground
and laugh into the wind as you ride back to your self made happily ever after.
Or else, the darkness of the forest doesn’t faze you and –
when the monster leaps out at you, the snarl becomes a squeal
as you slit its underside with the knife you always have hidden in your boot.
You track down a troll or some other fearsome creature,
demand to know the way out on the strength of your voice alone.
And, when that doesn’t work, you shrug and turn away –
scale a tree and check your compass, chart a path out of the gloom.
As you emerge you hear the thunder of hoofs behind you and –
oh, there is the prince come to save you, brow furrowed.
You smile like he’s beneath you, even though he towers over you on his horse.
He gallops away as you begin towards the rising sun
and out into your happily ever after.
But, what if instead:
you refused the offer of the penitent guard
(because where would you go
and could it last? )
or ran from the prince
(because everyone knows that gallantry is dead.)
Or else, gave up when the leap to the dragon seemed too great;
or, your grandmother’s advice seemed a long shot at best;
perhaps, the dark was a comfort in its own way or;
that knife you had would never be able to cut its way through, anyway.
So you remain locked in your tower or lost in the woods
wasting away, lonely and alone, to the end of your days.
Whether you are a damsel in distress, perfect curls and doe like eyes,
saved by some knight or tower guard who was beguiled or bewitched
by your beauty and the pink flowing dress;
or you are a distressed damsel, hair braided back, eyes narrowed
who walked out of danger as easily as princesses seem to walk into it;
or else, you are a million other options in between –
a damsel who likes the dress but took out the petticoat that made it hard to walk;
curled your hair but pinned it back once the fighting began;
cut your hair altogether because the damn thing was so impractical;
sat hoping for a princess instead of a prince –
your happily ever after could never be found
in a locked up tower or in the midst of the twilight forest.
You are meant to flee from those places
in any way you can.
You must seek out your own happily ever after –
whatever that means to you –
out there in the world,
away from the darkened forest and ivory tower,
where sunlight and freedom can help you grow.
Navel Gazing 