i love you.

Pointe Shoes

Shoes shimmering, gorgeous,

Graceful,

Glide across a stage.

Romantic, Beautiful.

Blisters, bruises, blood,

Encased in soft silks and satins.

Hiding what I am under what,

What I pretend I am.

I am a dancer,

In Pointe shoes.

To dance is freedom,

But I am a corpse,

And still eat less,

Because even bones are not fragile,

Not thin,

Not good enough.

Pointe shoes break toes,

Break souls.

I hide my pain under stage makeup,

And costumes,

And plastic smiles.

I’ve worked so hard,

I am so tired,

And broken.

Tell me, please,

Am I beautiful yet?

Show me empathy.