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Twenty four and a few more
The woman has grown -
Even flown,
In her new normal
Gatherings of friends
Music and dancing
A strange, drunken costume party
At last!
A soirée in the real -
A gentle joy she dared to steal
It’s been a while, I know, but here is the next in my Retrospective poem series. Twenty four.
lisagrace Aug 7
I pull a face when I see it
pop up on my screen

Another innocent "How are you?"

I leave it unread
Deleted

Of course, he has no idea
that I never wish
to see nor
hear from him again,

lest I begin to tremble
again
lisagrace Aug 7
They met in her family's
Restaurant kitchen
She, an apprentice chef
She, an absolute gem
She, who would become
The squish

Kindness and honesty
Go such a long way,
It's a pity
It did not happen sooner
The first time
She called her a friend,
She had beamed -
Her eyes truly did
sparkle that day

The decision was made:
This is her person
No spell so emphatic,
No truth quite as static
Because friendship
Truly is magic

🥀
lisagrace Aug 6
Twenty three years of age
She works, and she plays
Oh, she plays!
Controller in hand
The Sims is the plan -
A boring play-style, really,
Fulfilling her what if's
Of marital bliss

                                  What a twist

Cascades of pixelated children
"I think I'll name her.....
Quellcrist!"
The next piece in the Retrospective poem series.
lisagrace Aug 5
She was twenty. Not a girl anymore
Well, barely
Legally speaking, she was
Though,
She still felt like the girl
With everything
that had happened;
The tears,
The fear,
The manipulation,
The disrespect,
and apology
  after apathetic apology,
she felt stunted
Broken
Her mind, filled with the echoes of "Cannot" and "Will not."
Biting words, not shouted but sown,
percolated through her every silence.

She had said the words,
not knowing why
Regret blossomed instantaneously
She had given him permission…
but why would he bite?
The next piece in my Retrospective poem series. Blurred lines and the aftermath of regret. Don’t worry—it gets better!
lisagrace Aug 3
She is seventeen - not quite a girl,
He sees this

                     A pat on the ***

The not-quite-girl whirls back
"I'm not comfortable with that, "
He looks at her then,
And almost....scoffs
"What? It's just a ****."

Her spine stiffens—
She does not laugh.

And even before this -
                   
                      Hands on her waist
                      A hand, resting on her collarbone
                      Fingers tucked underneath
                      the collar of her shirt
                      She moves it away -
                      He moves it back
                      There are fingers on her       
                      sternum now,
                      nearly touching her breast

And then he touched her *******
The next entry in the Retrospective poem series. Fair warning: this piece gently explores difficult memories and includes reference to personal boundaries being crossed.
lisagrace Aug 2
Twelve to fourteen
       A good girl she must be,                 🦋
               but with the exception
                     of fake notes
                          to skip P.E
                              Her nose buried in books,
                                sitting in the nook
                                of her mind,
🦋                       still dazzled by magic,
                         adventure
                     and love
                A soirée
           with the feykind.....🦋
The next part of my Retrospective poem series...
🦋🧚‍♀️
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