i am a man of my word
but that word is loneliness
i built you a castle
with my bare hands
ignore the fact
that it is made out of sand
slowly falling apart
in the rising tides
my last home
was a house of cards
but without you
it was a queen of hearts
shy of a royal flush
like the one across your cheeks
as i speak the words
neither of us wants
let loose upon this world
i cut my lip
on the glass slipper
you wore to the ball
as i bent my head in supplication
to your supple ways
while you stared at the clock
planning your great escape
before your carriage
turned into a rotten gourd
the horses into rats
with a feverish gleam
in their beady eyes
but i am a man of my word
and ever since
you swept across the room
that word was devotion