TWISTED.BOW

Another night of casual

Debauchery with empty bottles

An urn to hold the ashes

After setting the night

On fire.

Her hair, a mess

Tangled in knots

A twisted bow

Is all she has —

Memento of the night.

She’s just a girl

In her mind, no where to go

Grownups dangle gold and wine

Scooping up what’s left

Confetti for the party girl.

By morning there’s a hush

Wide awake, bow unfolded

Crowds are gone

No longer a youth

An adult facing truth.

J.F

 

 

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Check out JoannaFanuko.com for my original stories, one chapter at a time. PUNKTUATED.blog features my original poetry, mental health advocacy and deep thoughts. Thanks for following and reading.

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