Manic Pixie Dream Girl isn’t Cute-she’s Crashing
Isn’t she so cute??Isn’t she so sweet??Wow, she’s a muse—charming, fragrant but fragile as a rose.
She’s so quirky, a little crazy, and it shows.?Wow, she’s wonderful,?But Beware, She will knock you off your toes. ?The manic pixie dream girl— darkly delicious, untouchable and free. But let me tell you a secret,?since that girl is me. ?Manic pixie dream girls aren’t fun.?They’re flawed.?Not whimsy—just wacky. They’re not tragically beautiful, they’re just filled with trauma, pain, and tragedy.
I thought it was a strength,?but maybe I’m just manic.?“Jump off a building?”?“Yes. I have wings.” The crazy stuff that sends our loved ones panic.?Forever keeping their core in pain,?forever ignoring our own brain.
Manic pixie dream girls aren’t cute,?they’re psychotic. ?Laughing as I fall like Icarus,?like a phoenix,?like a pair of wings will bloom mid-air,?like the earth isn’t waiting?with teeth to apart, me tear.
And then the crash.?And it’s nothing. Nothingness. Nothing less. ?Not even adrenaline clears the cloud,?the hum— the low steady drumming from a far. ?Booming thunder, crashing, burning into stars.
This burning isn’t holy.?It doesn’t feel divine.?It feels like the earth is shredding,?like an internal quake,?like internal harm.?Like I’m made of broken pieces?wrapped tight in alarm.
And there it is—the hunger comes,?needing the rush again.?Feed it fast,?starve it slow,?just to see it bend.
Feminine Icarus, blazing through the sky,?thinking she could evolve into the sun—
something greater, something immortal.?But now she just smolders,?silent,?unraveled all around. Feels like sinking, spiraling, like an airplane on fire spinning to the ground. Like a grenade tossed and then found.
Manic pixie dream girls aren’t sweet.?They’re exhausted.? They’re exhausting. They’re in pain.? Intense feelings of guilt and shame. They may even make you feel the same.
They’re convinced they can fly—? until let’s go, the sky.
About the poem: She’s not the spark in your movie—she’s the storm you didn’t see coming. Manic, messy, and mesmerizing, she’s crashing through the illusion of cute. This poem explores what it’s like for the girl in the trope and crashing the illusion, by dragging the reader through a manic and crash cycle with no cute package or safe landing.
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