Poem: "The Glass Slipper Didn't Fit"

I didn’t flee the ball

because I hated the prince.

I fled because the slipper

looked too much like a shackle -

and I had already bled in silence

for the illusion of love once before.

I mistook safety for a spell,

kindness for a curse.

I had danced in cages,

called them castles,

and kissed hands that held knives

beneath silk gloves.

So when real love came -

not demanding, not burning -

just waiting,

open,

barefoot -

I vanished.

Not from disgust.

From memory.

From smoke that still lived in my lungs

long after the fire was gone.

I was not a bride.

I was a phoenix,

still mid-ash.

But maybe now -

the clock strikes not midnight,

but mourning.

And I rise,

not to return to the ball,

but to myself.

Barefoot.

Unburned.

Unclaimed.

Raadiyah Ali