Dead Pointe Shoes
The ribbons and string.
Worn out and broken to threads.
So perfectly fit.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone appreciates Pointe Shoes. Every single ballet class I hear of how painful they are and how much everyone hates the pain they bring. What if these shoes could talk? What if they could tell of the sweat, conversations, and hours of work they helped create. They hold the weak and wobbling feet and ankles, and hold them just right. Through the metatarsals and cuboid bone, the pink threads and ribbons hold the dance she adores. I wonder if they understand the abilities they bring to her?