when I walked in my stomach was screaming nerves,
my heart felt fluttery from my first of many iced black coffees.
I fixed my eyes fixed on the black hightops I stared at everyday during first period,
the peeling rubber toes pointing straight at me.

I looked up, meeting eyes with the spitting image of Kurt Cobain
who smirked at me curiously, then lifted a finger, and turned into the kitchen.
I busied myself untying my boots, even though they had zippers,
promising myself I wouldn’t loose my balance.

The high tops returned, followed by weathered leather moccasins,
who murmured through his teeth “hmmm, designing with materials girl” .
I grinned through my eyes, attempting not to make myself intimate with the floor so soon,
expertly faking breathy laugh to cover up how utterly freaked the unfamiliar title made me.

High tops grabbed my waist and twirled me into the kitchen,
offering a cigarette before disappearing through the screen door and leaving me
in a room filled with music that ran through my head like a brush
combing out the tangles from driving with my sunroof down.

I was surrounded by people with purple hair and overflowing hearts
who floated around the room singing and talking and dancing
while I wondered how I should fill the shoes of my new title
and what kind of shoes I should even be filling.

out of the corner of my eye, I saw high tops march back ;
he didn’t seem to float but parade, his ponytail not quite matching his muscle shirt arms.
He waltzed right up to moccasins and kissed him proper on the mouth
hands holding his jaw, eyes closed, and balanced on his toes.

Satisfied, he stormed back out through the screen
pulling a pack of blacks and a white lighter from his back pocket
(he would soon tell me he didn’t believe in luck,
even though it was in his pocket when he was arrested over a houseplant).

Moccasins just smiled, eyes rolling up into his brown hair
and with his hands out palms ceilingward in a silent offer, he locked his eyes on mine
Before I had a chance to overanalyze,
he decided for me.

Maintaing eye contact, we danced to the 22 year old boys screaming through the boom box
while I tried to integrate myself into the scene,
tried to float so effortlessly too,
like the cigarette smoke oozing in from the patio

he pulled me into a hug that resented gravity
effortlessly lifting all six feet of me off the ground,
pressing my cheek against the cutoff edge of his tie dye tank top,
my blonde hair tugging between his chest and mine

So with fuzzy lemonade on my lips
and bass players hands on my hips
I figured out I didn't need shoes
if i never touched the ground.

Today I went to a
Red-Cross Baby-sitting course.
And we had to pair up with a
partner,
so the girl sitting next to me
turned to me to
practice
heimlich positioning.
So she stood up behind me and
put her arm across my chest and
we went through that position,
and then tried the other one,
where she put her arms around my stomach.
I could feel her breathing against my
ear, and her hair smelled
sweet and fresh and for the first time ever,
I wondered if my hair smelled like my
watermelon conditioner.
Then we switched,
and I put us through the
first position,
and I liked hugging her waist and
feeling her against me.
We sat down after that and learned about
CPR, and the instructor said we wouldn't be
practicing listening for breathing on
our partners,
and I let my mind wander to
a place where we could,
where she put her ear down
to my lips,
and her brown and blonde hair
fell over her ear and onto
my face.
I shook myself out of that
reverie,
and tried to pay attention,
but my eyes were drawn to her,
so I studied her instead.
An over-large grey sweatshirt,
with an icon of two green hockey sticks.
Blue denim shorts with
light blue lace on the ends,
black hightops,
and her socks were the same
hot pink as my own
shoelaces.
We practiced bandaging each other
up, so I wrapped
a strip of gauze around
her right forearm
and she did the same to my left.
And at the very end she rolled up her sleeves,
and I saw why she had me
wrap up her right arm.
Her left contained a
tile of faint scars,
criss-crossed like
spider-webs,
along her arm.

You walk through the door
blonde hair
blue eyes
126 lbs-from being tall-
thin as a stick
long, skinny face.
I look down to see what shoes you're wearing today.
Converse, as always.
Yesterday, they were white.
I've seen you wear
teal
red
yellow
gray.
All hightops.
I am curious to how many pairs you
actually own.
What color will you wear today?
and tomorrow?
Maybe Thursday of next week?

she wore hightops
and a tattered
old book bag.
and she liked
to tie
her red converse
to it's straps.
and walk
across
the fire escape.

the metal
beneath
her socked feet
was cool
and x-ed
and black.

she ran,
and she laughed
or she ran
and she cried
but she ran
and she ran
for it was all
she could do.

Where are you on this fine evening?
Are your eyes kissing the cross above your head ?
Or lingering on the warm dirt that fills the treads of your duct taped Converse hightops?
Are you somewhere in the middle?
Getting a taste of the foreign perspective
Of the sunset on our shared horizon
Who are you on this fine night?
A person fighting the great river?
Or a person who will swim in the current
Maybe you’re running along side with me
How far away are you on this everlasting morning?
Are you galaxies away looking for me across the universe?
Are you just a car ride away? In your house, in your room, sitting 3 feet off the ground, listening to quiet indie just like always
Or are are you just in Colarado

otm.

broken earbuds and
torn-up hightops and
dented dreams of a better life,
i long to find myself
in the words i write and the images i see
in the dark, in the moment
before i lose myself to sleep

my blurry eyes
find the outline of the stars, shining
and bright even as I
fight to stay awake.

what will i dream tonight?

Green eyes
Speckled with lies
Trying to hide the truth
Sundresses above the knee
Trying to catch an eye
Crooked smile with gapped front teeth
Charming all who see
Dyed hair
Black underwear
That shows when the wind blows high
Freckles hidden under foundation
Lipstick that's too bright
Hightops
Unmatched socks
Old enough to be anything
Still choosing her youth
Cuts that have healed into scars
Blend into the pale
Skin that's soft to the touch
No one knows how she loves
Always gazing at men
That can never be hers
She falls for every heart
Look again and see if you see the same girl

black tees
black jeans
black hightops
black hoodies and black caps
in case u havent noticed
i wear full black