This is for the monster humans. For those who don’t live with stardust on their skin; only iron and fire and scales. The ones who would venture alone into the wilderness at night. The ones who wouldn’t emerge with a crown of gold or a prince. The ones who would stay back amidst the wild and reforge themselves anew.
This is for the humans who were the entire forests themselves. Who were made of wonder and intense magic. Their hearts were oceans, and their souls those of the ancient trees. They were patches of wildflowers amidst tamed grass. Those who could be burned down by a single wildfire on an unfortunate windy day.
This is for the humans who found comfort within the borders of solitude. The ones who painted these borders with pretty flowers and ruled the cities they built inside them. The humans who hid under their beds in the fear of lurking monsters. For those who dreamt of slaying the dragon, only to realize that he lived within. The ones who were scarred but they knew that their scars narrated better stories than tattoos did.
This is for the ones who could not be destroyed, for they were Rome – built over ashes. And they were like a phoenix who knew how to resurrect. The ones who did not believe in shooting stars. They saw the night sky as a black blanket scattered with little diamonds. The ones who saw purpose in their creation. The ones who knew that the universe was made for them to conquer.
This is for the humans who aren’t your princesses; who wont be anyone’s queen. Who will never have a throne and nobody to write their stories down. This is for the humans you don’t know, and those who you will. The ones who choose to breathe fire over mist.
This is for the ones who could have been fairytales. But abandoned the prospect of being one. The Abandoned Fairytales.