Once, I wrote poetry,

the black cat part of me.

Once, I flew on airplanes,

until they gave me migraines.

Once upon a time I

believed in ever after

but no prince proved perfect.


I loved the holidays,

reveling with friends drunk

on life, youth, and wonder.

We’d drive two hours

trying new eateries,

hiking unfamiliar

places, and cheating death.


My mother’s face haunts me

walking toward the mirror.

No more second chances.

No more princes courting.

Once, my poetry rhymed,

when words did not betray

their twisted definitions.


©Joelle LeGendre