Ruby Muse Slippers

October 12, 2017

I am again wallowing

in unrequited territory

fantasy swampland

masquerading as

a faery filled field

a top a hill

by the azure sea

my feet sink

and get stuck

in the mud

of self abasement

I must sacrifice my shoes

to free myself

from the mess

the quicksand

I have to let go

of the fantasy

to float up

and out

of the quagmire

yet

I cling to

my shoes

my notion that

I have treaded many many

miles

in my mind space

a wilderness

of what-ifs

I consider settling

for what-is

what?

What is expected?

and so What shows up?

I find this

also does not fit

I ask

Do I wear it

until the leather stretches

and bear

the pain of being

rubbed the wrong way?

I have holes in my

socks

still

they leave ligature

marks

around my ankles

as if I was bound

tightly

through the dark hours.

I know only this

I could use

a foot massage

and

brand new shoes

OctPoWriMo 17 Day 12

6 comments

Annis CassellsOctober 12, 2017 at 9:36 PM
Love the twist at the end. Made me smile and recall a recent foot massage.
Plus this favorite line:
"...in the mud
of self abasement..."

Thanks, Jen. xoA

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Angela van SonOctober 13, 2017 at 5:21 AM
I want to read this one again and again. Formidable!
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AnonymousOctober 15, 2017 at 8:19 AM
Your words absorb me every time . . .
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