A Fairy-tale

Cinderella was made of glass,
Her heart a stone
That broke at last,
Fell through her stomach,
Smashed her feet,
It was too heavy
For her to keep.
Pieces of her still remain,
But no matter how fixed
She'll never be the same.
The glue can't quite conceal
The cracks in her figure,
Scars that will never heal,
Always a trigger..
But Cinderella,
Don't cry tonight,
Eventually
Everything will be alright;
Because you'll fall again,
And yes, you will shatter,
But Cinderella,
None of it will matter,
Once you take a gun
To your head,
Because then my dear,
You'll soon be dead.