The fairy Godmothers have gone to strike

today, we are tired-

pastel pink tutus don’t suit our mood,

today, our wings will

wrinkle, and sloth besides freshly branded

birthmarks- today, we won’t

caress, we will acknowledge

that the cacophony of crying

hurts, that listen to it long enough

and every shriek becomes a reminder of

getting an ear piercing for

the first time, and how lovesickness often

acts as a cure. but today,

we are tired of being lovesick-

of being composed silverware off which

generations are fed. this bitter

helplessness won’t be detained

by artificial sweetener now. please

accept that perfumed sugar stings,

ungratefulness even more. we won’t

always be there to ward off corporate

toothfaeries who come to steal

milk doused dreams, we won’t

be complacent anymore- in feeding

them lies while we sing them to bed,

in muzzled phonetics, in vibrant

strokes not within a prescribed outline. we

are tired of being rainbowed cement that

keeps a fragile imagination from toppling. we

are tired of being forgotten, we

are tired of witnessing the immortality of

broken bones from beyond a shrinking obscura.


we are tired of cleaning up after your mess,

our wands fail to do justice to disbelief.

Hetvi (she/her) is an undergraduate student (math major), and the co-founder of hariandhetu - a newsletter devoted to the quirks of literature and art. Her work has been featured by a few small publications, including The Narrow Road Journal and Mellom Press. Hetvi's based in India and she can be found on Twitter @vuisnotabot. She hopes you have a quirky day.

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