The Unmaking of the Pointe ShoeA Chapter by TheConjuringCatHard and made of wood, New and pink, Pointe shoes are the most sought after, Coveted and protected things in our world. They are made with care, Every stitch in its place, Each one perfectly made, Made to fit every possible foot Of every size of shape. They sit on their shelf, Wrapped in fragil paper, Waiting patiently to be taken home, For a chance to be used on stage, Waiting for their death. The shiny pink silk is stabbed by the needle, As the ribbons are sewn on, Ready to be used. The fabric on the toes are worn thin, Turn black and become dull, Eventually cut off, Revealing the stiff canvas inside, Finally to be danced on. The shoes scream and cry, The feet inside weep with them As the dancer rises and falls, Spins and turns, Leaps and jumps, Every time, increasing their pain. Inside her shoe, the dancer feels a SNAP! And hits the ground with a thud, Looking up at the ceiling, Wondering "What just happened?" But she will find out soon, Her beloved Pointe shoes Have died. © 2011 TheConjuringCatAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on September 6, 2011 Last Updated on September 6, 2011 AuthorTheConjuringCatAsguardAboutThings you should know about me: I was a classical ballet dancer, but was forced to quit because of anorexia. I'm very artsy and love art and music. I'm Christian. I know English, Latin, America.. more..Writing
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