Hop. Skip. Jump, landing in a puddle that ruins your tights and gets you detention. Take long strides. Tiptoe to the edge and think that maybe, maybe...
Would she feel it if you touched that line? It's just concrete. Just a rhyme. Not magic.
She's not your wicked stepmother. She's just your mother.
He's not our prince. Not your prince. Just a dark shadow who appears in your doorway while she pretends to look the other way.
Kissing you awake. Kissing his little princess. Waking her over and over again, no matter how hard you shut your eyes.
And she averts her eyes.
Would she feel it?
The concrete glistens. Would she just break and continue upright, just like you?