[title subtitle=”WORDS: Liz Harms”][/title]
Jessica M. had hot pink Mary–Janes strapped with bows, shining with real fake diamonds.
Never a hair out of place on the playground. She was a mannequin from Limited Too.
I had dirt on my skort and wood chips in my hair.
My jelly sandals were naked.
No bows adorned their fleshy skeleton.
The silver glitter marrow had gone dull–fossilized in clear PVC.
I needed cool shoes. STAT.
My safety scissors were scalpels.
I sliced the barrettes off two hair-bows.
They would not die in vain.
My fingers molted glue while I waited for my slippers to heal. To outshine Jessica M’s.
There is a reason cobblers don’t use Elmer’s.
Twelve Years later
I saw ballet flats on clearance,
Hanging on a bar alone.
Two pleather bows stitched firmly on the toes,
A real fake diamond in the center.
My hot pink Mary–Janes.
