What my eyes have seen

Razor slippers

I am glass slippers, but when I am lost, fallen from a selfish foot, I shatter. No revival. No return. Swept away and separated. Even if the time was taken, wasted to try and reassemble, to glue each shard, I will only return ugly. Any foot who dare the abomination still cut by my loose edges. Tearing and creating scarlet stockings for any bearers. Careless hurry. Cinderella only strives for eyes. Dramatic entrance. Dramatic exit. Step sisters are the victims, when seen from a fragile slipper.