1 Minute read

Spiky Heels

/ by


1 Minute Read

I snuck back home
Like a cat
Through back alleys
Shiny with rain
Crept back to my boys
Noiseless, past bins

Spotted the odd cat
Slinking off round corners.
My shadow switching on security lights
Yellow, wet patches stretching ahead, then
Gone, they switch off, fade to gloom.
Unheard, unknown, untroubled,
Home.

And the high heels?
The click click click
Sharp reminder that a lone female
Is out at night, alone
Wending whither to wherever
Feeling vulnerable in the back alleys
Of a neighbourhood called home
Now
Dark and deserted.

So
No high heels.
I like my anonymity
Doing my thing, being who I am
Undetected
Without the dead giveaway
The difficult to wear, anyway
The penalty points
Those spiky heels.

The disadvantage of the enforced swivel
The forwards tip
The concentrated balance
The focus
The tell-tale
Click,click,click.

Forget running
Forget competing
Forget being comfortable
Forget feeling chilled
Laid back
In control.

Fucked, basically.
In spiky heels.

2 thoughts on “Spiky Heels

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

You might also like

Hear more from us

Subscribe to our newsletter