Take a walk in my shoes.
Take a stroll down the path of heartbreaks, cut skin, violation of your insides within.
Take a jog through the noise of your mother crying, him yelling, she screaming, you dwelling..on the past you try to forget, but always left with the feelings of regret.
You regret not pushing him off when he was on top, you regret the nights you were never there to call the cops, you crave the days you had someone to call pops, now you waive away the pain by cutting yourself in shame.
How about you take a run down memory lane and see your mothers face in pain and watch yourself get violated in every way from hits, to touch, to words, to cuts.
You shout loud through your eyes, keep your mouth sealed shut..cause you're afraid of the outcome if you say too much.
Now I can see you're out of breath and can't stand to bear, all the things you've encountered just by trying on a pair.
So if you ever choose to question me on why my skin is cut in lines or why my diamonds don't shine...
just politely ask for a size 9.