Attention, plyo box!
Look at you: from up here, you could be a piece of Lego.
You’ve scared my friends, but not me. They hesitate to jump on you – and I have, too – but no more.
With one spring, I can bring my full weight down on you. I can stomp you a hundred times in five minutes. Every time I hear that hollow ‘thump!’ of my heels striking your platform, I laugh.
I used to step on you. That’s not enough for me anymore. I escalate not just in jump height, but also in the ferocity which I will rain down on you.
Your biggest threat to me? Scraped shins. Had those when I was three, thanks. Over it.
See you soon. Let me know how my soles taste. Kisses, me.