by Eleanor Dillon-Reams

Growing out of your favourite sparkly shoes:
Toes crunch and curl–
Please, I still want to be that girl.
Unwillingly unfurled
Proved the fit is no longer appropriate.
So, get rid.
But I wanted to dance twinkle-toed, fancy free,
Not ready to give up that version of me,
Pretty, pleasing, ever so appealing.
What now?
Sensitive soles,
Gravel crunching under bare feet lost,
Blistered and raw,
Swollen and sore,
Hard skin grows protective.
Toes explore, needing more
Gradually growing into space to take up that isn’t dainty nor delicate.
They begin to stomp
They embrace a newly found strut
Then what?
My next pair were sturdy Doctor Martens I tied in double knots.

 


Eleanor Dillon-Reams | @Elle_D_Reams

Eleanor is a writer, actor, and poet. Originally from Brighton, she has been living in London since she was 18 and has been writing poetry and spoken word for the last four years.

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