Thursday, August 19, 2010

Winter Formal, Freshman Year

Echoes across time

Have dimmed

But can still be heard

Twelve years removed


Dishonesty, humiliation

Still cuts to the heart of me

Renewed with every glance

From a well-meaning man


You did not have me long,

A tenuous grasp, at best,

Yet even pale scars

Prove the surface has been broken


A young girl’s insecurities

Born in one night

A grown woman’s fears

Bourne for twelve years

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