well look at you in your high heel shoes and shinny leather bag dressed up to the nines in labels with diamonds that sparkle in the sunshine. how much does it cost for all your high maintenance and for that smile you hide behind the red you carefully paint on your two tips. maybe you should slip into something more comfortable darling. please let me help you with that back zip and watch as the material falls off your hips to the persian rug you’re standing on in those stilettos. you’re worshiped, i am not included in your social class and i can’t help but wish i was you just for a few minutes. maybe a magic wand could manipulate me until the clock strikes twelve and i would get to keep a of pair jimmy choos for a souvenir. i must have been just shy of my shooting star. because i was that second too late my fate changed, so, here i stare in my mirror dressed in layers of clearance and missing my toe shoe.