Shoes by Alex Tang (18, Ohio)*

[content warning: self-harm]

What do you want me to do with your shoes? Answer me. I swear to god I’m not joking this time. See the giant recycling bin in front of me? Your tactical boots are about to go in it. 

If you want me to keep them for you just tell me but don’t just lay them out like that on the window sill. It’s not like you’ve never left stuff at my place before. Remember when you left your hockey stick in my closet and had a game that day? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you banging on the door. I was sleeping with my headphones on. I woke up to your texts and ran to the courts with the stick though. You probably borrowed someone else’s stick so it worked out in the end didn’t it.

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What do you want me to do with your shoes? 

I was at your place today. I ordered that vegetarian pizza with mushrooms and spinach and tomatoes. Can’t believe I once asked you why you only ate veggie burgers. Then you just stared at me dead in the eyes and said because you’re vegetarian. Of course you were why else would you eat veggie burgers every day. Stupid question. I ask stupid questions.

But what do you want me to do with your shoes? I thought I could ask you about them when we sat on the stairs and ate. She came out and gave me the funny look though. I thought you never slept with headphones. What were you doing?

What do you want me to do with your shoes? I feel really bad throwing them away like this. They’re Palladium boots and you wear them with so much style. Black turtleneck tucked into black denim pants tucked into black Palladium boots. Black from the neck down, the seasons did not matter. Don’t you ever feel hot?

What do you want me to do with your shoes? I saw you scratching at your neck under the turtleneck collar, smiling that warm, meek smile across the dinner table. The rashes from allergies are really itchy, you said. The pollen is annoying, isn't it. I didn’t ask stupid questions this time. 

I’m really throwing them away. They told me it wasn’t my fault. You told me it wasn’t my fault. I can’t hold onto them for you anymore.

I thought rashes don’t look like that. I don’t say that when you pull your collar all the way up to your chin.

I thought you were vegetarian. I don’t say that when you ask me where the steak knives are. 

I’m sorry I could’ve heard you from across the hall. I was sleeping with my headphones on. I woke up to your texts and rushed to your place but you weren’t there to open the door and it didn’t work out this time.

I don’t know what to do with your shoes. If you want me to keep them for you just tell me. Please I don’t know what to do anymore I might as well ask stupid questions.

What do you want me to do with your shoes?​