ode to my vans

I love my purple Vans

Once turned lavender. Now parts turned grey. I love my vans; In the way that my white laces are now brown. In the way that they are worn through. In the way that they are now a monochromatic rainbow of purple. Once bought-brand-new, my excitement exceeded the price for my purple hi-top wonders-were-worth it. Little did I know, Within the small Vans store; they saw in me what I could not in myself. They have seen the brand new hallways Of my high school. They have seen the fields of my hometown parties They have seen spilt drinks And the lake water of my 4 year summer job. They have seen throw-up and morning grass dew. They have seen frat basements and friends houses While also having seen my college classes. My purple vans have seen snow My purple vans have seen rain My vans have seen my sinister-nightly-drunken-wandering and my purple vans have seen my innocent-sober-mornings. Where dirty as they may be never gave up on the daily challenge of being worn. My vans rose with the sun each day casting their white-turned-yellow, purple-turned-grey-flag-of-resilience. waving that fuck-you-flag to whoever doubted their aged ability to carry me. My vans have never failed me. Their coagulated outer coat was formed from the very dried vomit they have seen, from the frat basements from the drinks and food carelessly spilled at friend’s houses. from the dirty muddy lake water that has honorably baptized them, which then in turn has helped carry me to my college classes. Even after a sleepless night of bellyaching over mistakes made yesterday when I opted for a different pair of shoes. My vans have formed this protective layer of shit I’ve put myself through that doesn’t even allow my feet to get wet when I walk through the deep snow of regrets. And isn’t that love? My purple vans have seen better days. Once new and filled with vibrant color. But in a way, my purple vans are better off in their Grey glory... Browned beauty. My vans have congealed their perfection through their daily use and my misuse. How can my shoes be any more beautiful than in the way I have worn them And for that, I love them even more. And it is through my vans righteous being That I have learned to love myself.

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