Wouldn’t you like to be her
Literally Literary and The Writing Cooperative prompt
Her condemnation came:
“till death do us part”
when masked by a shell of golden delight,
she was fed silver and jade and diamond flavours
and distracted by the taste of papery green.
With #85bb65 cushioning her every fall,
the onset of misery was gradual,
creeping.
Shadows of her former carefree spirit,
she would glimpse in fragmented memories,
but her pristine appearance was eroding,
dressed up in labels and branded stitching.
She tried to confide in her closest allies,
urged them to look past the facade
to her inner truths,
but all they could see was their own envy,
magnified by an ingrate unhappy.
There was nothing she could do but retreat
into bottles of Absolut bliss —
a quick aid for the mounting sorrow she experienced,
but never again tried to describe.
