Stilettos

Stilettos
S is for stomping down the side walk in my three and a half inch boots,
For being fly,
For being fly and feeling life,
For being fly, and feeling life, and loving who I was.
Look at me, that bad mamma in those three and a half inches,
Jeans tucked in so you can see the sexiness in my stride,
Not hiding the pride across my face as I strut down this street.
Because my three and a half inches turn
My five feet, into five foot three
I am alive



I keep telling myself that beauty is pain.
It is the truth. About 100 feet into my stride I start to feel a tingle on
The left side of the ball of my right foot.
A tingle turns into a throb, which is now a thrash of pain.
But I press on, because getting a glimpse from the guy
Peeping me from across the street
Means more to me than the sanctity of my feet.
Yeah, these three and a half inches do it for me.
Through the pain I am still alive.
And I realize,
I should be awarded a Nobel Prize for inventing a
New way to stand in order to keep myself from falling
Over because my foot has gone so numb,
That my leg starts to quiver, quake, buckling from
All the weight. I am losing my balance
Half way through the day and it is unbearable.
And I ask myself
Why do my stilettos still let my toes cry out in agony?
Beauty is pain, and being cute is a is a state of being,
A lifestyle, not just to be live for a little while.
So I ignore the sensations and press on.
Why do we women put ourselves through these things,
Bending over backwards, breaking our backs just so
We can seem to have a little more swing in our hips,
Or from behind to have a little more dip,
But actually just tripping over our own two feet.
Is it really worth it?
You change the way you walk, your stance,
You even have to re-teach yourself how to dance,
Just so you can accommodate those extra three and a half inches.
It’s senseless, trying to impress that other dude
Because he thinks it’s cute for you to be
Taller, leaner, in essence meaner because your feet always hurt.
But you’ll do anything for a quick flirt.
And while your bi-weekly pedicure appointments are cool,
They don’t stop the pain from coming
So the corns, bunions and calluses might be cute to you,
But I’m sticking with my flip flops and tennis shoes.
Still let my toes be free

©Danie Rae