My shoes of dazzling diamonds
Have spikes on the inside;
The beauty I see when I walk
They turn into scorchingly painful nightmares;
/
My dresses, which like spring waters flow –
Were hand-woven from living adders;
When I walk, their touch makes my skin crawl
And my veins – overflow with venom;
/
My smile is the gate to my heart –
It’s a scar that refuses to heal,
Proudly showing itself to the world as I walk;
I once believed naively that scars, too, had appeal;
/
My eyes from two grains of grey sand
Have grown into two mountains of granite;
I carry my mountains wherever I walk,
And dance on their slopes with bleeding feet,
A crippled smile, wearing Cinderella’s cerement