Black socks
White socks
   How do they compete?
   They don’t - they just go on feet.
Black sock
White sock
   I think they both rock.

Littlest things I'm thinking of you, avocados, toast, a shirt you'd wear, my tears they spout at socks and sandals, my life I have no clear handles.

I made a bowl of soup for myself tonight.
Red bean, kale, and quinoa.
I toasted two slices of bread,
buttered them,
let them cool.
I planned on dunking them
in the soup
to sop up leftover broth.

While the canned food heated
in the red saucepan
on the first burner
to the right,
I did simple tasks.
Recycled bottles from days before,
put away the dishes in the drying rack,
fed the cat.

I paced back and forth,
in my purple socks,
from my bedroom
to the kitchen,
listening to an old record
that sounds like nostalgia.

I did simple tasks.
Small, achievable things.
Self care comes
in many forms.

I’m laughing with you.
We sit at my piano
Video media records,
and I have the pleasure of watching us toss our heads back
Breaking neck smiles.
Play back our giggles
Mismatched notes
We don’t search our own accord,
Clash of chords
corded around each key.
Sitting on that bench is wearing socks of different pairs.


I am a fuzzy mid-calf, and you are an argyle knee high.
Socked in laughter.

i've outgrown people
and habits
the same way you've outgrown
your favourite jumper
like, remember that time
you thought i would die for you?
did you really think my
self sacrifice would go that far?
well, you weren't wrong
it would have if i had let it
but i've outgrown you
and my habits
and this you realized the day
i walked out with your heart
in my hands and crushed it
without remorse because
everyone's always got
their jaws open,
thirsty for more
and i can no longer feel guilty
for thinking of myself
because sometimes
i get thirsty too.

- crimsyy

a/n: thankyou for reading! Please comment your thoughts on this one

I get sent socks at Christmas,
So I can have safe walks.
When I tell my friends about this,
Everybody talks.

There is no innuendo,
Nothing to confess.
Without those cushioning blankets
My feet would be a mess.

I know a friend who knits socks,
In many different hues.
So long as she keeps knitting,
Our feet won’t have the blues.

So Wendy sock it to ‘em:
All that stitch and purl.
Make them good and roomy,
So our toes don’t have to curl.

No chance of any frostbite,
With these things on our feet.
For comfort on a cushion,
These socks just can’t be beat.

Paul Butters

Of all the simplest of things.
Sometimes love is a lot like socks.
Some are long, some are short.
Hell some even come up to the height of knees.
Some are bland. Some are colorful.
Baring the fruit of comforting something bare enough to be considered as precious.
These devilish things, socks.
Sometimes they create more problems than they are worth.
Coming apart at the seams,
Getting caught between your toes.
The hassle of constantly having to stop and readjust your shoe when no one is looking.
They come in all sorts of color and sizes, these crazy things called socks.

Sometimes that one size fits all is just a lie.
In time all things wear.
Just don't be foolish enough not to enjoy the comfort of the simplest of things.
This at all isn't important during the height of the day.

But the thought is necessary as it conveys comfort.

A necessity that goes unnoticed unless you've had any of these problems.

Belts on the other hand can be a different hassle. Not fitting tight enough.

The leather hole wearing thin often tearing.

Sometimes these dang things prove more trouble than they are worth. Stupid things.

But out of everything that I've said one thing couldn't be truer.
If ever I was to become overweight.
You'd be the pair of suspenders that hold my pants up when my belt can't fit anymore

You failed
not waterproof
you allowed water
to fall into
feet bottom skin

Lucky we had
enough of you
we juggled you
in the leaky shoes
that were
no good either

Next time
you’ll be worn
inside trek shoes
so that
you wouldn’t have to
taste the marshy
stink of feet bottom
the premonition
of possible fever