i’m a flytrap in Saran Wrap
Definition clingy
shouldn’t be satisfied to be qualified
as the gum that’s stuck to your shoe

This anxiety could be all from nowhere
It might not be real
But honestly and actually
it’s just how i feel

Everyone wears white shoes
What's wrong with black?
With black, nothing stains
Strong in color, fierce in stride

While white is too easily
Stained by whatever touches it
Treading, becoming ***** who
swore they were pure to heart

Some people do care
to step into the dark
puddle, the puddle that
ripples in concealed rage

Little boy blue
In love with his shoe
Polish and clean
So fondly you gleam
Smile in delight
Scuffs in spite
Return to anew
You and your laced shoe

When I run, I run with speed
In which becomes a gentle breeze
Soaring though the asphalt heat
Opposing wind blanketing
Speeding down a blistering street      
While                                                           ­   Y                                          
          My      ­                                                      L
         ­       Prudent                                              E
   ­                           Mind                                  ­E
                                        Wanders             R
                                                               ­ F

Before me the monster grew
In the stippled light
Dappled blue
It was an interesting sight.

A wondrous uncompromising
Dark hue
Its features had a disconcerting
Temporary feel. Nose and ears fixed by glue

And where his mouth should have
Been was a blue suede shoe,
And in place of eyes grave-
Stones inscribed with the names of no one I knew.

Still, he was very polite
For such a badly-hewn
Creature of the night.
Crafted as if from ancient stone,

He quietly broke my neck
With a pleasant-enough smile
And I heard it crack
Dying, deeply impressed by his style.

This is the shoe where poetry lives
It walks with a tap and the occasional hop and skip
But on Mondays it drags a little on the way to the train station

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Ready to throw a kick but inevitably risking a stubbed toe
Harbouring the memory of a break and the months of limp

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Experimenting with an odd sock, denoting a qwerky outlook
And if you were to examine it's sole you'd find an uneven wear

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Grass stained from ventures along less travelled paths
And carrying scuffs from many climbed boundary walls

This is the shoe where poetry lives
And it sits by the back door ready for the next adventure
Silently jealous of the shoe that was claimed by the dog tonight