poem in a brand-new dress, old shoes

this poem is the
unluckiest girl at the party,
war-torn wallflower
grown, unknown.

she’s all dressed up
with nowhere to go,
no place to know
herself, feel safe or sound.

she’s found
the drinks to be watered down,
the appetizers to be un,
the company to be
silent. she is shrinking
spent breeze.

she sees the disco ball,
hears the music,
but she’s forgotten
how to dance.

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 11



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