The wondrous horror of worn-in heels.

You know, 

surrounded by books and a set of keys,

I feel more like myself than I could sitting in a group of warm smiles and eyes. 

In clenched fists

I feel weaker than sobbing into a steaming mug of camomile. 

And with these tears in my eyes I will someday feel happier 

than I ever could gazing through a sunset. 

Sitting in this library of books, 

I wonder how hopeless the rest of these authors felt.

Yes, 

I'm well aware that I am not the worst that I could be right now.

I've experienced that and have no desire to look or go back. 

And as far as I have sank before,

I don't quite believe that I should consider such a feeling as this as a high.

Which reminds me,

I don't even have the slightest memory of my last one. 

I've not taken a single ailment to acheive such a high,

but I like to think that there was a point in my life when I was truly content within myself. 

A time where I didn't need as much help standing as I do now,

not that I get it even now. 

Safe buildings are just as dangerous as the gunmen that intrude upon them.

I can understand why people can be so viscious.
For it is low points such as these that I truly know that 

when the pistol is aimed at another,

they truly wish that it was aimed at themselves. 

I can understand that too. 

"I guess that's why they call it the blues" 

is the perfect observation that I wish I'd never had to make.

Everyone has their own distinct role in the lives of others,

and more and more, 

I wish that my role in my own life was the spectator. 

Or maybe I wouldn't want to view this disaster up close anyway. 

There truly is something to be said about a pair of bloody heels that one never gets rid of. 

If one were to try,

I don't believe that there would be a soul without such a sensible pair of footwear. 

I could see so many models sporting

all of the injustice that they've committed against themselves,

all encased in a mere pair of shoes. 

Pretty in pink I'm sure she was, 

but for so many reasons,

red seems so much more fitting.

The prom night gone awry the pink of it all naturally dulls to a deep red anyway 

and adding a touch of that to any ensemble will do.

The bloody red heels are my staple because the blood is in the sole. 

No one needs to see such a wondrous horror within such a pretty thing. 

No one really wants to see such a wondrous horror within such a pretty thing. 

Perhaps this horror is not meant to be seen,

and perhaps I need not be such a pretty thing at all.

Human Dignity + Compassion = Peace.