Editor's note: "Cinderella" from the shoe's point of view--I did not see that coming. But this poem works. Truly imaginative. Update, 2020: Here's a Throwback Thursday (Friday) delight. It's worth reposting for the reasons listed in my first note. It was first published April 2, 2014. Please note: EC is NOT accepting poetry in 2020. This poem is truly one of my favorites. That’s why it’s up.
I was meant to be a gift
a precious keepsake
that wouldn’t regress
into forest vermin or a rotting gourd.
Yet, you’re too afraid to reach for me,
unwilling to claim me.
You begged for transformation,
now you’re too fearful to see it through.
How do you think this feels,
the looks that bore through me,
the fingers that stain?
They smother me in grubby heat
when they force themselves in me.
It always hurts.
They never fit.
But I won’t crack,
I won’t break.
After each failed fitting
he looks at me with frustration.
His fingers tighten on me
until I can feel his fractured pulse.
I’m nothing to him,
just a conduit to you.
We’ve both been abandoned and refused,
stuck at a standstill
since the moment you ran away.
I endure each stifling touch,
each crass inspection,
while you cower in the corner.
I won’t beg you to claim me.
You don’t even know
of the courage needed for the next step –
the servants who will whisper behind your back,
the gentry that will sneer.
Once I’m yours again,
you can’t crack,
you can’t break.
You must withstand it all.
But if you can’t,
then just stay in that corner
with your tattered head rag
and soiled sundress.
I’ve been through worse
than your rejection.
Katrina Robinson was, at the time of this poem’s original publication, pursuing an MFA in Creative Writing and
Publishing Arts at the University of Baltimore. Her publishing credits
include V Magazine for Women, the W.W. Norton Hint Fiction Anthology and two issues of Enchanted Conversation (the "Beauty and the Beast" issue and the "Snow White" issue).