it feels like the first day of spring
and I keep turning away from the sun
because every time it hits my legs
my body convulses and tingles from the heat.

sixty-eight degrees outside
I'm wearing a winter hat and sweater
minty green with patterns that look like Cheez-Its.
my shoes give me ****** blisters
but I wear them anyway because they're new
and complete my ****** outfit
and my feet will question,
                                              and ache
                                                               and plead

you are my feet
you bolster my body
every bone, limb, and muscle
and I constantly destroy you
******* you, scratch you, dismantle.
I am that one pair of shoes in the back of your closet
that never feels the tension of your toes
because after an hour of my presence,
you remember why I was stashed there in the first place.

and even though I'm new to you
I can only hope to complete the transcendence of your outfit, too
complete your already perfect everything

and despite my careless bruising
I long to be your favorite shoe.