The color of passion, the color of pain



The color of delusion, the color of flames



I slip my swollen soles into your hallow hysteria



Cracked, fragile feet from the frost bite



  of a West Virginia snow



Size six, ruby red stilettos



and I push



and I pull



and I scream



and I sigh



and I try and I try and I try



In my six, ruby red stilettos



Freezing poetic lullabies



Until I can find a place to call my own



  

Sparks of scarlet bloodlines



Dripping down my spine



Wrestling through rivers



between the spaces in my mind


My heart is much too loud for a place like this



My lips are much too quiet for a place like this



I dance with him in



The color of courage

The color of fame

The color of charisma

The color of strength



The color of my lipstick when its fading through my lies



Much too broken



Much too bold



Bursting into a violet plum



until I am in pieces—



until I decide to throw myself back together again



In my size six, ruby red stilettos



and it wasn't my intention to force them to fit



and I push



and I pull



and I scream



and I sigh



and I sell dignity of my poverty



to get them to come off of me



but once I started dancing



I fell in love with the sound



of my heels clicking



the surface of the floor



and I made myself a home



in my size six, ruby red stilettos.

My girlfriend called me short,
it struck me right in my feels,
she said, "It's ok, I'll love you anyways,
plus you can just borrow my heels"

you want that tap tap tap as you walk
you got that fancy look on lock
so slip those feet right on in
cinderella with the ress and flawless skin
now all you need is a pair of heels
you're about to give everyone
all the feels
so find the pair that fits like a glove
because at the end when push comes to shove
it's the shoes on your feet
that are the beginning of love.

And a year later,

I wear the same heels,

But feel taller.

did not know her when she was miniskirts and high heels,
before she converted to the one true religion of
poetry & yoga

some stray dog thots raveling in a pack
cross the not-even-6am brain that alternates tween
new day Adam apple crumb crisp and
distracting lascivious Eve ones

I,
would have loved you same back then,
no different than now

I,
write in different styles
under so many pseudonyms,
but it is the same man

I,
who crawls into bed nightly with
great expectations and a list of salutations
to wake you up and commence writing how

I,
love your poetic yoga-toned long legs
snaking between mine
while I imagine them in miniskirts and high heels
which is a long way round of saying

You,
alone, my darling forever young one,
are my
one true religion...

High school graduate,
you look down, I gasp,
I am not wearing my heels!

If you're what I have
I'm going to be the one to raise your calves
High heels dropping off
I made a landing on you and I'm here to stay
There's no running away
Just the same feeling after we've sensually peaked
Making our dissatisfaction weak
With the world and our issues
Loyalty is rare
Everyone just wants to be bare
With nothing else
I like the action
But it's pointless without the emotional connection
My desires always comes second
That's a huge rule
Many of us miss

Out of wearing her shoes, Kaylee gets so much pleasure
They're like her gold and glittery treasure
I hear the sound of her heels as she walks down the hall
I think they're about two or three inches tall

I ask to see her shoes and she sticks out her foot
I give her a compliment and say that their cute
She thanks me with a smile on her face
Then puts her foot down with a sweet kind of grace

I must confess that  I've admired
How she walks in those shoes all day without getting tired
There is no doubt, I've come to see
That those shoes were made for my friend kaylee

I wish I could have captured,
Your feelings,
The way I snap pictures,
And eternalize moments.