fairyproof
once, I tried to stop believing in fairytales.
so I hid the tiara,
burned the diary,
cut my hair in the mirror
while pretending not to cry.
but you—
you kept bringing me
tiny proofs of magic.
a glittery hairpin,
a note in lavender ink,
a playlist named if you were a planet.
and now I know—
it wasn’t that I stopped believing.
it’s that I was waiting
for the story where
the princess chooses
another princess,
and they both make it home.