sometimes life gets a little tricky.
so you plan to secretly take a little weekend trip.
just to run away for a minute to breathe.
then you realize that your niece has a dance recital that weekend.
so you go to that instead,
which is completely worth it.
but as you watch her,
(realizing that at one point she was a cute little girl dancer
and has since matured into a mature, beautiful, incredible dancer)
you ache for that dancer inside of you who never got recognized.
that one that was always there but never quite got her chance.
so later that night, after not having an outlet for so long,
you realize you probably danced when you were 2.
and again, probably, when you were 6.
and times between when you were 6 and now,
so then you think, why not when you are 26?
so then you don your old, worn jazz shoes,
and pretend that your toe isn't broken for a second,
or that your leg injuries aren't there for a minute.
and you turn the lights low
and you just dance.
probably to something like this.
cuz it just feels right.
i mean, hypothetically of course.