After the Party

I came back feeling sullied
and it was my own posture
that had sullied me —
crept into my old closet,
pulled out shrunken, moth-eaten clothes,
clothes that had failed in the past,
that had been stained —
Where was I looking
that I didn’t notice
it had put them on me?
I let them mold me
into the old stance, became
the one who craves and measures,
measures and craves,
seeks a bigger share
while believing she deserves
a smaller one,
forgets to connect,
goes home
feeling desperately alone.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 15, 2013


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