Love, Laugh, Dance = Life.
She tossed her toe shoes out the window. The soft light pink ribbon,
Usually circling her equally pink capiezio tights, now entwined with
The snow as white as the Swan Lake tutu.
The fire blazed brightly in the cold room,
Her hands quivering around the various colored leotards, ranging in size and style.
She tossed each on into the blazing fire,
As red morning sunset.
Her tears flowed down her cheeks, and sobs filled the air.
She muttered, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and burried her hands in her head.
She picked up the letter, and screamed, as loud as she could,
In attempt to chase the demons out of her head, like
Clara in the Nutcracker running from the mice.
She wished she was Clara.
Then the nightmare part would eventually end.
She picked up the envelope, sitting by the fire and read it one more time,
Before tossing it with her leos into the fire.
She felt done, when she finally tossed that picture,
Sitting on the fireplace mantal,
Two girls, both tying their ribbons, in black and white.
Black and white, the emotion of the moment.
She took the frame, and threw it as hard as she could against the wall.
It shattered.
And she smiled. She looked out the window of her apartment building,
At the site of her toe shoes.
It’s a long story, and nobody knows the story.
But let’s just say,
Dance is to die for.