When the party’s over

where to go from here?

curl into a den of woe

and wait to disappear?

Breaths of life sustains me

when others fill my room

without their presence, the lonely heart

retreats within the womb

Why must I be so absent

in the carriage of myself

that I sit so idly dormant

on a dusty solo shelf

Do only I allow to see

myself through other’s eyes?

Surely there’s another way

than gowns that glamorize.