I used to dream of Prince Charming

I used to dream of Prince Charming
who would steal my breath at first
sight, then carry me away into the fading light
of the sunset
while my hair fluttered gently,
kissing the air behind us
like a whisper.
"I won."

But seventh grade came
and went.
"No boy will ever like you
Because
You
Are
Too
Smart."

I used to dream of Prince Acceptable
who would be the person I thought
I needed to fill the empty spot
residing in the tucked away corner
of a teenage heart--
the corner that needs to feel
accepted,
included,
loved.

But sweet sixteen came
and went.
Never been kissed.
Seventeen came
and went,
with a moral to the story:
Don't jump in. It hurts.

I used to believe any Prince
would somehow find my whereabouts,
though it would be difficult for him to find a route
through the maze of the
Heart I now possess.

He hasn't.

("No. She was never asked on dates. She was never anyone's 'steady gal,' really. Good story, huh?")

So I don't believe
The words my friends tell me--
You're beautiful. You're talented. You're a joy to be around--
Because nothing
(of consequence)
Has proven them true.

And I can't believe.
Because late at night
I still feel unloved.
Like in a lame, sappy movie.
(I hate lame, sappy movies.)

And I won't believe.
Because I am
afraid.

I used to believe in Prince Charming
until I realized that I am afraid
of being hurt, or of being made
into something untouchable.

I want someone to hold me,
but I'm afraid to give in.
I want someone to tell me
"You're amazing,"
but I'm afraid I won't believe it.
I want someone to call my own,
but I'm afraid I'll hurt him.
or myself.

So I don't believe.
I can't believe.
I won't believe.

Prince Charming.