Once having been a young beauty,
resentment had now pinched her
features and aged her by decades.
The gripping tightness around
what could not be had
changed her into something
repulsive and somehow alarming.
She had given up a life that had
limitless possibilities instead to
isolate her focus on another.
Someone who carelessly
used her and she thinking
it was affection, ended up devoting
the rest of her life to emptiness–
her days spent endlessly waiting
and hoping for that which would never be.
Now she spun lies and spoke words
of fantasy, too ashamed to admit
even to herself the daydream
that her life had become.
Thursday Poets Rally Week 39: http://thursdaypoetsrallypoetry.blogspot.com/
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