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#reimagine
And the clock strikes at twelve, Cinderella immediately run, leaving her left, blood-stained glass slippers, leaving the prince blooded, open skull on the floor. She is running towards the freedom, but the night is still young, and she still has her right glass slippers clean. Maybe step mother and sister can help
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Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 10:09 AM UTC
Cinderella
I fall in love with bits of people, rarely a whole person. Like crooked smiles on subway stations or untied shoelaces or favorite books or eyes that look like blinking galaxies-- I see the puzzle laid at my feet, your collarbones, your self-hatred, your bitten down fingernails, your detachment, the wars of your mind, the curve of your spine, the way you scrawl your name with indifference-- All these broken fragments that shatter and surround me like the wine glass I dropped, Shards of glass, your eyes reflect me the deep blood red wine Drops like crystalline desire-- I might romanticize your flaws and I might make walls of disillusionment, but I swear I'll love you like you're whole.
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Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 1:20 PM UTC
it doesn't matter if you love me back