Chapter Text
Sometimes when I think of Hansel and Gretel the intended message is lost.
Instead my rambling thoughts land on levelheaded Gretel, how even when her guard ought to be down she has her exits mapped out.
Her own father taking her and her brother on an odd outing had her sacrificing lunch in order to make it home.
But man cannot live on bread alone,
The little girl instead weighed her pockets with ashen stone.
When proffered the sweetest things she’d not yet known, Gretel knew a payment would be due.
How could a child so fresh to this world be wise to the terrors of women hood?
Witches I’ve never met,
but I know exactly how Gretel felt running away from a false paradise.
When she gripped her brothers hand so tight, as though she could impart some understanding to him through the insistent contact.
The pounding of her feet against hard dirt and gnarled roots, legs fighting to run pace with her racing heart.
To get home and crawl back into bed, imagining the familiar solid door that had previously stood between her and the world.
There must’ve been a clarity to her terror I’m sure.
When I go on walks I’m careful to know my way but still-
I’ll pack a full lunch to tide me over and then some more to carry me back.
Should danger come knocking you’ll find sharp stones lining my pockets.
How they glittered
How they shone
If all else fails, Gretel’s treasures I’ll follow back home.