Not Just For Cinderella
By: The Sacred Fox
Half ‘til twilight, she cries on the floor.
Mascara-stained hands swipe as tears pour.
Left at home once, she did not accuse,
Surly her family had a good excuse.
As time went on, boxes piled in her room
As though an attic or closet for a broom.
Still, she kept quiet; her lips remained sealed.
Reluctant to speak, yet unwilling to yield.
Tonight though, the tears would not stop.
Tonight someone waited for her on the rooftop.
A prince, a love, was to watch the sunset,
Surrounded by their friends and her stepsister, she bet.
She stopped and looked at the black on her hands.
Never had they done more than cook and wash pans.
For twenty-one years, she’d cared only for family.
Now twenty-two, someone wanted her candidly.
Without a second thought, she dug out her wallet.
Visa in hand, she picked the door socket.
The sun had set as she made it to the roof
And felt like a fool as she stared at the proof.
No one remained, not her prince or stepsister.
All were long gone. Her heart felt blistered.
Not even a glass slipper could make amends;
The thought ran through her mind without end.
Although locked in, the fault lay with her.
The signs had been clear as a heel spurr.
Only now did she know what to do.
Upon her return, she would pack her things, move.
Footsteps clicked as she turned to leave,
Until someone tackled her like a desperate thief.
Someone nestled his head at the crook of her neck
And breathed in her scent as though he might forget.
“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “You are my princess.
If I can stay by your side, I’ll shun all the rest.”
Tears formed anew as she bit back a sob,
And linked her hand with his as he held up her credit card.
She moved out the next week to her family’s dismay.
With no one to cook or clean, their apartment decayed.
As for our heroine, she now pens novellas;
With a message for young women, fairytales are not just for Cinderella.
The Sacred Fox 
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