Even though they were tight, the colour was right and the heals. I think the shoes will stretch a little over time with use. Fashion is a burden and a trial, it binds and constrains, and yet frees you to live the illusion the dream, to float out of life into another world.
At the end of my bed sit a row
of shoes that I wear regularly and
I don’t think much of them except
that they are good and take me places
to see people, to do things
and so
thank you, shoes
Shoes. At times a delight to look at- shiny satin, rhinestones, skinny high heels that make the legs look more shapely. I just spend a good 20 minutes gazing a wedding shoes, all different styles. Fashionable and fun as they may be, though, the best part of the day is always that moment when you take them off. Ahhh. Relief. No matter the shoe- stiletto, sandal,or sneaker- what better relief is there than slipping off your shoes?
The soles of my shoes were worn so thin I could feel the pavement underneath them. Hers were brand new, stylish, with arch support. Mine were tattered and grimy with sharpie marks on the side. Hers were a bright sparkling white. Yet I wasn’t jealous, not even for a moment. Hers were beautiful, but mine had a story burned into their sole, of times spend with friends, of running one home and eventually to another, from life. Hers were beautiful, but these were mine.
He lines his shoes up by the door, so he could wait until the very last minute to decide which ones to slip into. He had never been good at decisions.
That’s what Hannah had said, anyways. He could still remember the conversation.
“Do you, Jay?” She’d asked.
“What?” He knew what. He was indecisive, not stupid.
“You know.” She glanced across the table at all the other customers in the busy diner. He could see the way she latched onto women’s hands, looking to see if they were wearing a ring. Jay had seen her studying her own hand late at night, pulling every wrinkle taught. “Do you want to stay together?”
He’s already a couple minutes late now, but he can’t choose between the loafers and the boots. He didn’t know which was better.
He didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t know.
Maybe the shoes will be gone by time he decides. Maybe they will walk themselves out the door. This is what it is like to be barefoot: You foot still curved in the absence of what it used to know but wasn’t quick enough to keep, balancing against air and the cold, cold floor.
I. Wear shoes. Even though i hate them.. mine are probably dirty cause. I walk through a lot of mud. And. Water. Which sucks. I don’t have any color preference for my shoes unlike everything else. I hate Nike. I prefer some weirdo brand that no ones heard of. I can’t even remember the name, which is fine I guess. My shoes are 10x better than my sister’s. I can always find mine unlike my brother
Why do some of us have so many shoes? I’m a guy. I shouldn’t have so many shoes…What am I writing, I can do better.
Her shoes scattered across the bedroom floor. Countless girls’ nights and tinder dates come to mind as she watched them bounce and tumble, like so many pebbles rolling down into a ditch. He scared her when he was like this….really she was scared all the time. She stopped really knowing if it was him who scared her, or if she was just always scared.
I love my shoes I have vans which are skating shoes…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
My feet are aching. I lost my shoes days ago; trapped in the sticky slush of the swamp. But I couldn’t stop to retrieve them then, and I can’t stop to worry about it now. Have to keep moving. I know he’s still out there somewhere, with his white painted face and the blood-red nose locked onto my scent. The clown is still coming for me. I have to lose him; I have to escape. This swamp is my ticket to freedom, if I can just manage to keep above his pace.
Of course, I may have forgotten about the alligators…
As a kid I hated them. Preferring, instead, to scratch callouses into the soles of my feet by the rough back-hands of gravel. No Spring was complete without a traipse through fresh rain-puddles; no summer quite as sweet without the tickling drops of dew across thin ankles. These days shoe-bags line my closet. Cup upon cup for my tiny, pale feet who have become shy over time.
“Of course!” Harriet pointed to her pile of high heels. “Every pair is for a different occasion. There’s a difference between holiday heels and date night heels. And don’t even get me started on my daily sneaker regimen!”
What are shoes? Shoes are something which we need in our daily lives. We use shoes as a cushion, to protect the skin underneath our feet from anything harmful that may be lying on the ground. Shoes may be specialised too.
I wear shoes all the time because if I didn’t then I wound have to walk barefoot all the around the class and run around the playground for the running program.
Shoes aren’t my favorite. I like shoes because they protect my feet but I don’t like wearing them. The only shoes I’ll wear are either basic sneakers or a cool pair of blue and red shoes. They just squeeze my feet and I hate the feeling of shoes squeezing my feet. It hurts!
She felt joyful, starting in her toes. She felt put together for the first time in a long time. She could skip down the street if it was not horribly uncouth to do so. She rounded the corner and gained her composure as she passed the big windows in front of her office.
Red shoes. She’s walking across the park in her hella pretty red shoes. Light gleams on them like on rubies. I’m jealous of her shoes but soon she won’t be wearing them anymore. I will be the one wearing all of her shoes, her dresses, even her lingerie. She will sip her morning coffee and drift off to eternal sleep. That’s how I like it.
“Buy good ones, they’ll carry you to where you need to go,”
A phrase I hear on repeat too long after a lifetime of bargain buys and hating change,
Angstily rushing through the store in worn rubber riddled with holes.
After all this time I slip on boots with laces for days
Three times the price I would ever want to spend
And suddenly I can walk so much farther
Even if my feet can’t adjust after a lifetime of abuse,
Pressing and twisting all the wrong ways.
I test and see how far I can go
And how loud they can cry
Throbbing in their cage
But realignment and fixing all the harm
Is much more painful than the slow slip into ruined;
I allowed this to happen.
The skin wears away, it hardens. I go farther.
And farther
And I’m glad we live in a time where we know the world to be round
Because I don’t have to waste my time looking for the end
I just go.
What they wear to cover their soles is nearer to the earth.
Pumas, jumpers, thumpers
Leaping, lunging, loping
Eating it on
A half pipe dream
Skating, skirting, sneaking
Elevating, escalating, entertaining
Even though they were tight, the colour was right and the heals. I think the shoes will stretch a little over time with use. Fashion is a burden and a trial, it binds and constrains, and yet frees you to live the illusion the dream, to float out of life into another world.
At the end of my bed sit a row
of shoes that I wear regularly and
I don’t think much of them except
that they are good and take me places
to see people, to do things
and so
thank you, shoes
Shoes. At times a delight to look at- shiny satin, rhinestones, skinny high heels that make the legs look more shapely. I just spend a good 20 minutes gazing a wedding shoes, all different styles. Fashionable and fun as they may be, though, the best part of the day is always that moment when you take them off. Ahhh. Relief. No matter the shoe- stiletto, sandal,or sneaker- what better relief is there than slipping off your shoes?
The soles of my shoes were worn so thin I could feel the pavement underneath them. Hers were brand new, stylish, with arch support. Mine were tattered and grimy with sharpie marks on the side. Hers were a bright sparkling white. Yet I wasn’t jealous, not even for a moment. Hers were beautiful, but mine had a story burned into their sole, of times spend with friends, of running one home and eventually to another, from life. Hers were beautiful, but these were mine.
He lines his shoes up by the door, so he could wait until the very last minute to decide which ones to slip into. He had never been good at decisions.
That’s what Hannah had said, anyways. He could still remember the conversation.
“Do you, Jay?” She’d asked.
“What?” He knew what. He was indecisive, not stupid.
“You know.” She glanced across the table at all the other customers in the busy diner. He could see the way she latched onto women’s hands, looking to see if they were wearing a ring. Jay had seen her studying her own hand late at night, pulling every wrinkle taught. “Do you want to stay together?”
He’s already a couple minutes late now, but he can’t choose between the loafers and the boots. He didn’t know which was better.
He didn’t know. He didn’t know. He didn’t know.
Maybe the shoes will be gone by time he decides. Maybe they will walk themselves out the door. This is what it is like to be barefoot: You foot still curved in the absence of what it used to know but wasn’t quick enough to keep, balancing against air and the cold, cold floor.
I. Wear shoes. Even though i hate them.. mine are probably dirty cause. I walk through a lot of mud. And. Water. Which sucks. I don’t have any color preference for my shoes unlike everything else. I hate Nike. I prefer some weirdo brand that no ones heard of. I can’t even remember the name, which is fine I guess. My shoes are 10x better than my sister’s. I can always find mine unlike my brother
Why do some of us have so many shoes? I’m a guy. I shouldn’t have so many shoes…What am I writing, I can do better.
Her shoes scattered across the bedroom floor. Countless girls’ nights and tinder dates come to mind as she watched them bounce and tumble, like so many pebbles rolling down into a ditch. He scared her when he was like this….really she was scared all the time. She stopped really knowing if it was him who scared her, or if she was just always scared.
my shos is not shos, is adidas, and i walk in them to make a xerox
I love my shoes I have vans which are skating shoes…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
My feet are aching. I lost my shoes days ago; trapped in the sticky slush of the swamp. But I couldn’t stop to retrieve them then, and I can’t stop to worry about it now. Have to keep moving. I know he’s still out there somewhere, with his white painted face and the blood-red nose locked onto my scent. The clown is still coming for me. I have to lose him; I have to escape. This swamp is my ticket to freedom, if I can just manage to keep above his pace.
Of course, I may have forgotten about the alligators…
“Shoes”
As a kid I hated them. Preferring, instead, to scratch callouses into the soles of my feet by the rough back-hands of gravel. No Spring was complete without a traipse through fresh rain-puddles; no summer quite as sweet without the tickling drops of dew across thin ankles. These days shoe-bags line my closet. Cup upon cup for my tiny, pale feet who have become shy over time.
“Wait…how many pairs of shoes do you have?” Nora demanded to know.
“I dunno.” Harriet shrugged. “Twenty-two? Twenty-three, maybe?”
“Do you really need that many pairs?”
“Of course!” Harriet pointed to her pile of high heels. “Every pair is for a different occasion. There’s a difference between holiday heels and date night heels. And don’t even get me started on my daily sneaker regimen!”
What are shoes? Shoes are something which we need in our daily lives. We use shoes as a cushion, to protect the skin underneath our feet from anything harmful that may be lying on the ground. Shoes may be specialised too.
When I think of shoes it make me think of like shoes on you feet.
I wear shoes every day when I go somewhere.There are a lot of different shoes.
I wear shoes every day . I use them for a lot .i use them for running dress ups wedding and more
Shoes are something that you put on your feet and they are normally comfy for being used for walking or running.
When I hear the word shoes I think of the shoes you put on your feet,and how brand new shoes are tight when you first put them on.
Shoes are wat you are walk in and on our feet and some girl throw shoes at boys if they are mad at them.
I wear shoes all the time because if I didn’t then I wound have to walk barefoot all the around the class and run around the playground for the running program.
Shoes aren’t my favorite. I like shoes because they protect my feet but I don’t like wearing them. The only shoes I’ll wear are either basic sneakers or a cool pair of blue and red shoes. They just squeeze my feet and I hate the feeling of shoes squeezing my feet. It hurts!
When I think of shoes I think of a rack of my shoes I kind of like this word becuse it makes me think of sport shoes but it distracts me
When I think of shoes I think of nikes labrons or any other kind of shoes but i think shoes are cool.
There is was a boutique thing.
What I think of shoes is what you ware on your feet .And you can kill spiders with it to.
Shoes. I wear shoes to school, and outside.and around my house.shoes are great for different terrain.
I have a pair of colorful tennis shoes.When I hear the word shoes I imagine a pair of shoes.
Her shoes were black and blue.
Shoes. I wear shoes to school, and outside.and around my house.
Shoes. I wear shoes to school, and outside.
Shoes worn by people going no where with no souls, no soles. How many soulless people have steel toed boots around their hearts? They shuffle and
She felt joyful, starting in her toes. She felt put together for the first time in a long time. She could skip down the street if it was not horribly uncouth to do so. She rounded the corner and gained her composure as she passed the big windows in front of her office.
Red shoes. She’s walking across the park in her hella pretty red shoes. Light gleams on them like on rubies. I’m jealous of her shoes but soon she won’t be wearing them anymore. I will be the one wearing all of her shoes, her dresses, even her lingerie. She will sip her morning coffee and drift off to eternal sleep. That’s how I like it.
“Buy good ones, they’ll carry you to where you need to go,”
A phrase I hear on repeat too long after a lifetime of bargain buys and hating change,
Angstily rushing through the store in worn rubber riddled with holes.
After all this time I slip on boots with laces for days
Three times the price I would ever want to spend
And suddenly I can walk so much farther
Even if my feet can’t adjust after a lifetime of abuse,
Pressing and twisting all the wrong ways.
I test and see how far I can go
And how loud they can cry
Throbbing in their cage
But realignment and fixing all the harm
Is much more painful than the slow slip into ruined;
I allowed this to happen.
The skin wears away, it hardens. I go farther.
And farther
And I’m glad we live in a time where we know the world to be round
Because I don’t have to waste my time looking for the end
I just go.