Delicate
Careful
She watches the little ballerina twirl
Mommy, I wanna be just like her

Yes, dear

Her mother never seemed to believe her
To be there for her
So she would sit alone
in her room
With her knees hugged to her chest

Occasionally tears would fall
Traveling first down her face
Finally splashing to a halt
on her bed sheets

In the background
Her music box continues to play
Slowing down more and more
Until she –
Stops

Mommy, can I dance?

Yes, dear

Years later she stands in the dance hall
Waltzing with a man she calls her own
One-two-three
One-two three

Does he love her?
She wants to ask
Do you love me?

Yes, dear

He twirls her again
Around and around and around
Until she’s dizzy
Then he spins her again

In her minds eye she sees her ballerina
Twirling
That’s me she thinks
That’s me
But she dares not ask for confirmation

One-two-three
One-two three

What’s a dance?
Her hopes?
Her fears?
All shattered
Unbecoming for a woman of her age

She can’t curl up on her bed any longer
She’s not allowed
He’ll stop her
Pull her aside

She winds the music box
Twists it around
Opens the lid
Her ballerina jumps up
And twirls
Please, can I be like her?

Yes, dear

He comes in and sees her on the bed
Even though he told her not to

You should know better, dear

He spots the music box
and the dancing ballerina
The glint enters his eye,
the one she hates
the one that never means anything good

You asked for it, dear

He lifts up the box
Hurls it at the wall

The box begins to cry
tears of springs
and gears
Coupled with her tears
Still, the ballerina tries to dance

He considers the ballerina to be evil
Lifts her up
Places her on the floor
below his foot
Down it comes

Please don’t

You know I have to, dear


Will you make me dance for you?
You being the one
who can crush my dreams
You being the one
who can take away my ballerina

Yes, dear