It's not in the shoes but, in the walk.

Dear naughty,

You are standing there in the middle of the club, with a skirt shorter than a bandana accompanied by the liquid your dad told you to never touch. Head spinning hips swinging- you have never seen the world from this view. Your friends saw that you couldn’t take anymore but yet they rolled up a joint and waved it in your face. You started smiling but deep down your stomach was oozing with drunkenness and your conscious fighting the future decision you are bound to make. Your legs started to move but you did not know where to stop naughty girl, don’t do it. Remember when you were supposed to study for the Journalism test, but instead you partied a storm up at Equilibrium. This is not for you and you know it. Love you’re self and you will be loved. You are young my love, why rush to become a woman. But you kept moving the next thing you know you are outside passing the joint amongst the people in the circle. Your friend next to you looked at you and smiled, as if you have just been initiated. You just fell into the deepest hole and did not even realize it. Stumbling back into the club, you did not know who you were. Your friends were concerned but, only because they were under the influence of marijuana…

As time flew by, so did you. The night ended with you on your bed and pure darkness…

Yours sincerely

Eyes wide shut