She walked into my office one day and quietly shut the door behind her. She quickly removed her scarf and there, staring at me was a portrait of a beautiful, restful innocent woman, beaming up an alluring smile that not even an artist hand would have carved. Although, she was in her forties, a picture of flawlessness, childlike like calmness, wrinkle free silhouetted face the world wouldn’t dare see, emerged.
Often times, some things are not worth the fight. Let go and be still. Breathe. Deflect the energy elsewhere to something worthwhile, on a clear post it note with an eye of a bat. Don’t elect to know what you don’t know or, when the end is or will be. The answer is not so easily tangible but prudent, when the worth becomes worthless and trivial, the not so settled picture on the wall. Mind you, you cannot change what is not meant to be, it is not up to you but yours to sit on the passenger seat and let be chauffeured.
I sleep, I see shoes
I wake up, I see shoes
I breathe, I see shoes
I smile, I see shoes
shoes are my muse
shoes are my box of Kleenex
where I spit away my sorrows and
take on my pain
shoes are my handbag
my joy, my love, my instrument
shoes are my visits to the orthopedic
ludlum drive 
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