In that time before

in that time before she wore heels

the buckles of her bootstraps waned

soggy with earthy smatterings

the speckles smacked the smile into her

in that time before she painted her face

blue was just a primary colour

not a familiar state of acquaintance

when blunders blemished her lips

in that time before the musings ceased

she basked in a gentle woodfire

now that spindly faucet runs dry

creaking with overuse, decay

in that time before the rulebook

libraries were islands to get lost in

now she opens the first chapter

it reads 101 of not rocking the boat

in that time before her bound closet

cotton unconfined coiled free form

replaced by a paling veil, when seen

holds a reserve sign just for him

in that time before they shared a home

space was sanctuary and soul-tied

now these lived-in walls breathe

their casings tinted crimson

in that time before her ghost reigned

dreams were doting beings

latching to her rosy cherubs

now laid bare, those hungry weeds.

Shanice is an emerging British writer and forever daydreamer based in the UK. By day, she works as a UX researcher. Her work has appeared in Anti Heroin Chic and Blue Daisies Journal.