When This Was Fun

My mind drifts back… to when this was fun, Back when my life lived under a brighter sun, When every doorway opened wide, And friends pulled me laughing to their side. Now whispers bloom like shadows behind me, Soft enough they think I cannot see. Their glances skim my skin like frost— Pitying, distant—counting all I’ve lost. I feel so small in this crowded room, A little girl swallowed by perfume, By clinking glasses, practiced smiles, By warmth that stops just a few cruel miles, Before it reaches where I stand. Still pretty — still worth the time, I know; My laugh still rings like a clock’s clear chime, slow. But hesitation hangs in the air like smoke— Rumor and gossip tightening their choke. But even as their whispers cut… and sway, I know I’m still someone they once sought to stay. And their sideways glances bruise like truth— Friends turning shadows, forgetting my youth, And I stand here holding what joy used to weigh… Maybe once, this room felt warm to me— Back when laughter didn’t come so carefully. I used to dance without checking who stared, Used to believe my friends still cared. Now I breathe slow… pretending I’m undone, Trying to recall when this was fun. My mind drifts back… to when this was fun, When my life lived under a brighter sun, When every doorway opened wide, And friends pulled me laughing to their side.