GLASS SLIPPER

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It's mightnight..

I'm here alone staring at this glass slipper heart you left behind that still fits you perfectly.

It remains empty and transparent,

I can see straight through to the other side and it doesn't look half as green as it did when I last took a glance at it through your eyes.

As I watch my courage slowly shape-shif into a pumpkin I am forced to swallow my pride and admit to myself that this here glass slipper is all I have left of the dream of us,

And sadly my life is still covered in your footprints.

You budged in without knocking and you left with little warning,

I still remember the way your fingers slow danced in mine that one time you held my world in place... nailed firmly to the edge of the seat as I tried to make sense of the many wonders that left your mouth as your spoke.

You were a wonderwoman made of kyptonite,

And I was your Clerk Kent,

I fell weak at the sight of you and I was also a little wierd,

But that was okay because you were weird too.

Your awkward had accent yet oddly enough it never seemed foreign to me,

Because to me it only ever felt like home.

I'm trading out this glass slipper for clay,

Hopefully I can mold it into something that doesn't feel like it was born to hold you,

To travel with you where ever you may choose to go,

To keep you from blistering as you walk through life.

I need to find a new definition of beautiful,

One that doesn't smell like you,

Or sound like you,

Or look like you,

One that just isn't you.

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