In A Room of Red Dresses, I picked
Yours
Was a pale, fainting blue.
Nothing more than a picnic dress.
Defiance of the most humble kind.
As the Red Dresses scoffed behind their painted ceramic masks,
You held composure and pride in what you had and who you were.
I liked that.
While the Red Dresses spoke Hyena to you,
They "accidentally" spilled their glass of jealousy over your elegant "rags"
But, the blood of your social slaying didn't hinder or cannibalize you;
You refilled her glass.
I loved that.
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3 comments:
SWEET. Did you write that?
Yes, I did write this. I dislike plagiarism, so if it they aren't my words, it's usually stated. I think i'm getting better. but, I still can't help but marvel at my prior thoughts expressed in mere mortal words. they still appear comprehensible even though emotion clouded my vision.
Have I ever told you how much I love this? It's one of your best that I've read.
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