no one wrote a tale
about the ugly step-sister

she used to be beautiful and fair
with her heart black and ugly
but they made her ill-favored
so it would be easier to see

she mocked the princess
                     like she had been laughed at
she took away her pretty dresses
                     so pleasing, she would be a little less
“those who earned food must earn it”
                     she learned how to fight by being hit

“comb our hair, brush our shoes, and make her buckles fast”[1]
maybe she needed help, maybe she had to ask

she danced for a man
                     that wouldn’t hold her hand
fought for a place
                     where they laughed at her face
cut her toes shorter
                     to fit in a shoe never tailored for her

“there they go, there they go!
There is blood on her shoe;
The shoe is too small,
Not the right bride at all!”

she cried as she couldn’t be loved, only fall

for she was unpretty
she did not deserve romance
nor pity
only shame

​and nowhere in the original tale
does anyone remember her name​

About the author:
Charlotte Poitras is a queer neurodivergent artist-entrepreneur based in Montréal, with more than 100 publications internationally, spanning literature, theatre, visual arts, and audiovisual work. She handles mainstream culture like playdough to make it her own and defend social causes in both shocking and entertaining ways. 

Ella Enchanted couldn't get the Glass Slipper on,
let alone imagine dancing the night away until midnight;
swollen feet and broken dreams, she stayed indoors and slept
her life away. Her Fairy Godmother gave her beautiful dreams,
of coaches made of pumpkins, horses that once were mice,
footmen who were all lizards and a coachman who remains a rat.
Her dirty rags transformed magically into a beautiful dress,
an amazing hallucination dream, where everything is possible.
Night terrors they call it, night sweats, another symptom in a land
where illness is queen, but what of her handsome king, waiting?
Another day another symptom, spinning webs of falling dreams
from worn down spindles, so much pain to be a sleeping beauty,
horrible power of invisible diseases, creeping, crawling, crying,
wishing on a purple star, one day she’ll find her happily ever now.

About the author:
Peter Devonald is a UK based poet/screenwriter who has lived with disability most of his life. He is winner Waltham Forest Poetry 2022, Heart Of Heatons Poetry Awards 2023 & 2021, joint winner FofHCS 2023 and second in Shelley Memorial Poetry 2024. Finalist in Tickled Pink ekphrastic contest 2024, highly commended Hippocrates Prize and Passionfruit Review 2024, shortlisted for OxCanalFest Poetry 2024, Saveas & Allingham 2023. Poet in residence Haus-a-rest, Forward Prize nominated, two Best Of The Net nominations and widely published including Broken Spine Anthology, London Grip, Door Is A Jar, Bluebird Word, Vipers Tongue, Voidspace and Loft Books. 50+ film awards, former senior judge/ mentor Peter Ustinov Awards (iemmys) and Children’s Bafta nominated.

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Instagram: @peterdevonald
Facebook: @pdevonald
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