Fancy Shoes – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

There’s not a simple way to explain the process of this sickness disguised trick or treat surprise guessing game. No easy way to help you understand. But I can tell you; these fancy shoes have never felt good. They feel permanent. They feel like forever swirling around in quicksand turning to concrete. Stuck on a path that never stops circling the replay of my own crash landing. I can’t slow it down, I can’t speed it up. I’m on autopilot. Choking up my daily to do list and watching as it goes up in flames, while it burns through me but I never flinch. I never flinch. It darkens me. Peels away at this skin I never learned to love, and layer by layer, a revelation of what lies beneath, and it’s ugly. You wonder how many wars have been fought on the inside, how many feet are in my…