I don't write poetry, except when I do

 Cruelty

Sometimes words escape me.
I think it's because I pinch them,
Like Hansel and Gretel's witch.
Sometimes I squeeze them so hard,
Cut them to make them fit,
Like the feet of step-sisters
Into Cinderella's dainty shoes,
That they bleed
And weep
Upon the paper.
And the blood and tears
Cannot be wiped away
But leave a stain upon the page
That reads between the lines
Like a wolf in grandma's clothing
In an old fairy tale.