Once upon a time,
Not long after Cinderella got married,
Her husband seemed to get quite a bit scary.
Once prince charming,
Turned prince frightening.
He raised his fist at any chance he got,
And glass slippers weren’t the only thing that broke.
His gleaming teeth and kind eyes told her,
“he won’t do it again.”
But the bottle on his lips,
And the bruises on his fists told her a different story,
One without a happy ending.
At night she stopped dreaming of being swept off her feet,
She dreamt of her much needed retreat.
His words were like gun shots, and his fists were fatal,
But all she could feel was for the once upon a dream at the ball.
Smiles turned to rage.
Gifts to fists.
Kisses to hurtful words.
Love to hurt.
But even as birds whispered in her ears to leave,
To run from him,
She couldn’t help but say,
“I love him.”
At that her light dimmed at the clock struck midnight,
Her heart ached like his fists.
But all she could hear were the words in the back of her mind,
"It's my fault."
who would have thought things could go so wrong after the ball.