when i was a kid,
i spent most of my time barefoot.
this backfired frequently,
like the time i walked a friend home
little pink feet charring beneath me
as freshly-paved asphalt seared my skin.
i do not remember crying.
i remember the doctor, later,
slicing into ballooning blisters
scrubbing new skin raw
making old pain new again.
i remember skin burning
cheeks hot bright red with shame
for trusting the world to take care of me.