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Rated: E · Poetry · None · #1331470
This poem dissects shoe parts and paints them as death.
Sole Cessation

Eyes of gray stare unseeing;
I avert my own, unable to meet the cold stare,
knowing it will not blink first. 
I am a coward full.

Silver tongued, always whispering,
she speaks of darkness unending- or was it eternal light?
Pressing my flesh, urging me to the great unknown.
Come, she says.  There’s naught to fear there
for I will be with you.  Always.  All ways.

Stroking fingers pull me to the edge,
laces forming a net to stay my fall.
We will catch you, they assure me,
whether your eyes are closed against the whiteness
or useless wide against the darkness.
We will be there, surround you.

An unnamed vamp leads them,
swallowing me with her long throat,
wrapping my foot, dragging me to the edge
so that I stare into the abyss,
hearing her vaudeville song over and over.
Step here, she plays.  Step here.

On boxed toes I sway,
bouncing o’er the gaping wound below,
thin quivering shank my only support,
a single, thin line between breath and none.

Aglets of fear surround me,
binding me, stifling my breath.
I look closer; might they be aglets of courage,
so that I might not unravel?  I do not know.
I can not ask; I fear the answer.

Our souls are one,
hers battered and hard, melded to mine.
She pushes- nay! - kicks me,
to the edge and into the hole
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1331470-Sole-Cessation