I am ready to trade in my shoes,
they are worn and ripped,
though they carried me far,
I don’t think they fit these feet anymore.
These stumbling feet that found
timid purchases on jagged edges.
Calluses, where I managed the irritation
and blisters where I broke,
unable to suffer anymore.
Hoping that by the time it healed,
I would be tougher and less breakable.
Shoes that supported weak ankles
which bent and swayed,
Sometimes finding a foothold,
but mainly falling into this life.
I would like shoes of spun silk,
angle soft and delicate,
shoes you take care off
But will they support me?
Some heels to elongate my legs,
make them appear like works of art.
Power steps on runway walk.
Can I be a statuesque beauty?
Am I a runner?
Or meant to stroll around the beach?
Flip flops kicking up the sand.
How do you get the sand out off…well…
Maybe my old shoes are worn just right;
groves molded to my skin?
or perhaps I just need to kick them off,
stop molding my feet to shoes
Run bare feet
and love the skin
I am in
and the steps
my feet make.
© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy