You know that feeling you get when everything around you is moving, but seemingly enough, it’s as if the entire weight of the world is confined within the laces of the very boots you reside in?

The faint murmurs of betrayal and lies. My ear a glove, catching every last one. Absorbing them. Each word a bit harsher than the last. Striking me down. Blow by blow. Ambiguous people whispering ambiguous lies with the intent to hurt. Every falsity planted upon my ears like soft, tiny kisses of death

But these boots keep walking

Those who pretend as if nothing has ever gotten under their skin. Those who feel superior. Maybe even those who feel inferior. They know pain, but not like I do. They hide pain. But not like I do.  Not like I did
The only part of me that remains is my torn flesh, beaten and distorted by every word...every sound. I’ve been ripped to bloody shreds. The cold body of me. What used to be me

These boots, tattered and broken, keep walking

You think you know me. You think you know what these ears have heard, what these eyes have seen, what this heart has held. You think you know where these boots have been. You don’t.

These eyes still see him. These eyes turn every shadow into him. These eyes turn every one of his kind into different variations of the same monster. These ears remember what he sounded like. The sound his feet made with every stride along the carpet. The carpet leading to my bedroom door. These ears remember the sounds he made as he climbed on top of me. I know these sounds all too well. This heart was too innocent.

Too fragile. This heart was simply an object thrashing under him, while he slowly suppressed it. This heart was shattered. Forever. Its cracks filled with contempt

When he was done with these sad eyes, these ringing ears, and this shattered, barely beating heart, I got up and walked away in these boots. The boots that were strapped to my little feet by his goddamn hands
Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left

My boots scuffed the floor as I dragged my own body and the weight of the world out the front door. My boots walked to the garage, but kicked over the long piece of rope. My boots brought me to the kitchen, but passed by the knives. My boots walked me right up to the edge, but never brought me over it

Nobody ever heard anything. Nobody ever saw anything. Nobody ever did anything.

What if one day these boots kept walking

Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left…  Right over the edge.

Would you care?

Would your ears hear anything? Would your eyes see anything? Would your heart feel anything? Would you slow down your sprint through life to pull me back from the edge?

Just to help me out of my boots?

Like hell you would.