High Heels

March 8, 2019

I have a pair of high heels,

embrassed with night velvet

to cover my feet until my weak ankles.

But most importantly of all,

I have a pair of high heels,

that push me against the undeniable force of gravity,

and add me an extra four inches

like leg-lengthening surgery.

They insert a cold, telescoping rod through my bones,

pulling that white collagen apart,

day-by-day,

step-by-step.

Because I'm scared of not being tall

enough

for what I will face ahead.

I have a pair of high heels,

continuous wear-and-tear at the heel tip,

woobly as I walk.

But they also resonate a clear sound,

adapting to their environment,

empowering my every move.

They accompany me to formal occasions,

where I can see further in what I can do.

Because I support myself,

standing in this daunting

zoo.

I have a pair of high heels

that bring me down,

yet push me up.

So I learn to accept the bads and the goods,

the irony of my feelings of

shortness

and tallness.

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