The Ballet Dancer

The Ballet Dancer by Siena Hitchcock

I squeeze my foot into the shoe

The shoe I had seen in the movies that seemed too good to be true

It felt okay at first, uncomfortable at the worst

But I looked beautiful in the pink satin

“Get on your toes” he yelled, my confidence had flatten

I was afraid at first, for I have heard bad things about going on too quick

“Get on your toes” he demanded

So there I was; stranded

I’ve been dancing en pointe for a few months now

My feet have formed into this tight tight shell

Eating less so I can fit into their demanding needs

Like a survivor navigating through the weeds

I lose all my muscle, all my bones start to break

My toes leak blood when his words start to snake

Snaking to the other dancers who’ve been dancing far more long than I

Their feet fit perfectly into his expectations high as the sky

So I stretch myself out, trying to grow, and show him I know

Please I know

So why do I cry?

Are my standards too low?

My body and mind now a group of crows

I finally yank my foot out

Now bloody and bruised

Now afraid to go into any other shoe

Until another boy came along

Promised to show me something closer to a song

He made me practice and practice until I learned not too long

Learned to love while also building me to be strong

He loved and loved and proved me wrong

That was until he stopped singing the song

Addiction Runs in My Veins