Where's your prince now, Ella?
What happened to the one thing
that made you p e r f e c t?
Where's the pretty dress now, Ella?
The sparkles nipping at your skin.
Constantly reminding you of the lie
you live.
What happened to pumpkin, Ella?
Creating a wall that distracted the
outside world from the shy girl
inside the white carriage.
Why'd you let the glass slipper fall, Ella?
You let the bond tear.
You let them see the real you.
You them let them see the im perf ect i on s.
Where's the fairy tale, Ella?
The one that p u l l e d you in?
Or did it disappear once the clock
stroke 12?
It doesn't matter anymore.
The fairy tale is gone.
But you don't need it.
You've created your own perfection.
So the let the shiny metal pierce your
Skin. Let the glossy red liquid pour
From the opening. But just don't
Let anyone see.
Because then the gig would be up.
And everyone would see past the
Façade.
That Ella of the cinders was just Tawni Hart playing pretend.
