I was learning how to skate
when on the darn hill I tackled last
I encountered a slippery grate.
I was rollerblading
and I fell onto my face.
So with a red puddle I painted the hill
and with a black pen you’ll sign my brace.
In hopes of discovering a new passion, or in the least a new hobby, I acquired myself some rollerblades. Day 1 was a success. I found my legs after a 15 year pause from the sport and broke in my new rides. My last time on skates was with a pair of white, pink and turquoise skates to match my floral print leggings and turtleneck when I was 10 years old. Day 2 was also a success, until my boyfriend and I decided to finish off the day with a hill that had seemed too steep when we started. I didn't quite make it down the hill. The professional skaters at the bottom were incredibly helpful; one provided me with a packet of tissues to soak up the blood while others pointed us to the closest bar to get some ice. The rest of the night was spent in the local ER and not, unfortunately, at the local bar celebrating a friend's new job. Ouch.