Perla's 7 Shoes

Sitting on the edge of my bed reluctantly forcing my feet 

into my one-size-too-small Sunday heels, I look for my left sock 

my eyes drift to my black school shoes 

its leather body peeling off revealing its white shell

and its velcro trap mixed with bubblegum

I cringe knowing that my mother will scream at the mess on my feet Monday morning

still, that’s ‘more bearable than having to contort my flat feet

into the arc of a crescent moon

pinching my toes to form a triangle in my

ballet slippers on Tuesday ‘I thought

a smile spread across my face and excitement rushed through my veins 

when I saw my sneakers thinking about my final Wednesday march

in the distance, I heard the church bell echo throughout the village

its vibrations bounce on cars and buildings reminding everyone that mass will soon start 

I hop down from my bed knowing soon my name will be the one echoing throughout my house berating me for making the household late again 

frantically looking around my room

I saw my bright pink unicorn slippers

and a montage of Papa and I's Thursday

trips to the ice cream shop sprinted across my mind

"Perla hurry up" my Nana hollered

my eyes now anxiously searching my bedroom floor

I spot my sock under my combat boots

the ones I saved up for five months just to wear to Austin’s birthday party this Friday

"Perla don't make me call you again" my Nana echoed

I sigh forcing my left foot into my sock

and then tripping over my blue high heels I bought for prom this Saturday

as I tried to find the other side of my Sunday Heel

‘I really hate Sundays’ I whisper to myself