She walks in glass slippers

Things of beauty

Of illusion.

She walks an illusion

Waiting to crack

Waiting to shatter

And fall at her feet

Leaving her unshielded

Unmasked.

No one else sees the cracks

In the slippers

They see only their beauty

Some once saw the first cracks

Some see the slippers

Ready to shatter

No one sees

The truth past illusion

No one sees

The shattered glass

That cuts her feet

With every step.

The slippers have long shattered

But the illusion

The beauty in front of them

Will hold for much longer

As long as the shoes

Will cut the feet of the wearer

No one will see her pain

Until she has pulled a dress

Low enough to hide them

Enough to hide her pain

For a little longer

Until the ever-present

Scars have healed

And she can leave

Her broken glass slippers

At the feet of another.