Heart-fluttering Toe Shoes

The deadline has passed, but I couldn't help but write this, so I'm dropping it here😂

My older sister was a ballerina who danced more beautifully than anyone else.
She was my idol, my light.
“I’m definitely going to stand on stage with you, Sis!”

To me, clinging to her every day saying that,

my sister would always smile gently and reply like this:
“Yes. Hurry up and catch up to me. Let’s dance together.”

──But that promise will never be fulfilled.

I can't believe today is the third anniversary of her passing.

That accident that day... I still don't want to believe it.
Only the toe shoes my sister left behind

still hold warmth in my hands.
It’s okay.

I will carry on my sister’s dance.

The air in that studio where I stood side-by-side with my sister
still remains in my heart.

I am not well-versed in the techniques or history of ballet, but
to me, toe shoes were a 'form of prayer'.
I wrote this with all my heart for this participation.
I hope it reaches someone's heart quietly.

Comments and follows are very welcome😊
Thank you so much for reading until the end😌

I wrote this here🙇‍♀️