self-fulfilling prophecy

I am not a cat, I don't have

nine lives at my disposal

I can't disappear into the night

when I need a fresh start,

a rebirth from the darkness

It's more like I am

Wreck-It-Ralph

or some character in

an arcade video game

You put the coins in to play

You decide my lives

You

I am not the hero of this story

I never was

Women, we are

so easily sidelined to

sidekicks and lovers and villains

My part, I've always thought,

was best classified as the witch

I'm not good

I'm not bad

I'm just right

I'm the witch, you're the world

I've always been right

unfortunately

But I'm still here

wrecking it, or maybe

trying not to

Following you into the woods

taking bites of my own poisoned apples

I make my bed, and lie in it

then remake it

again and again

swallowing quarters and

getting ready for the next round

landing on my feet, or at least

trying to