High-Heeled Shoes

It was the high-heeled shoes
That struck me
As we talked
I couldn’t help looking down at the red
That raised her whole body inches above mine
To where my neck craned to see
The once beautiful
But overly made up face
There was pain
It could be seen
Just below the mask
Of rouge, powder, and plastic
That pulled back skin thinly
And led to a barely noticeable smile
She was young once
Then walked through the middle ground
Like me
Now she has taken
That step beyond
But tries to hold on to an idea
By manipulating and painting herself
Like a doll
Whose countenance cannot show emotion
We all put up walls to confuse or protect
We all think that we can fool
Even ourselves
With this game of charades
As I took her in
I realized that
Adopting red shoes
And feeding the mask
Can only serve
To leave a question with those
Who stop and try
To see beyond
The shadow self
Into the depths
My question
What caused you this much pain ?