.
.
to read by
.
.
.
these old shoes
.
.
.
these old shoes of mine…
walked the twisting, painful path
that has marked this life.
.
.
my innocence lost…
psyche and body so bruised,
i ran at fourteen.
.
.
and these old shoes stood
steadfast and true…. with me in
my loneliest hours.
.
.
i can’t let them die…
stitching them back together,
again… and… again.
.
.
i don’t yearn for much…
these days….. my miracles are
the moments i’m in.
.
.
my needs are simple,
f a m i l y…. is my fashion.
.
‘shoes, just get me…..h o m e’
.
.
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.
for my sister Melanie,
ty for your courage.
.
.