Brand New

Every dress she wore

had a hole in it. She used to sew

but they always came apart,

she was never as good as

her grandmother. Now it is

a stand she takes

to break down

the hold he has on her waist

on her tight fitting dress,

she refuses to make it

brand new

preferring the tattered one

for it is the perfect shade of black

she paid five-hundred dollars

and still has the receipt.

It never fades. Everyone knows

she loves that dress,

but his jacket covers her moles.

He could buy her more,

but having names on her ass

means nothing to her

if it is not poetry.

She believed in old hockey cards,

the ones she found in his attic,

The Rocket

close to his heart,

she competed with dead hockey players,

he competed with dead poets.

She found his hockey skates

in a crate dated 1977

an expo hat that his uncle

from Greece left behind

in a rush to get back to the olive trees.

He found nothing of hers 


this pained her

this idea that he would discover her soul

in death,

this burial of all her poems

only to be unearthed by him.

If only she had driven him that night,

he would be here

reading her words

and not under the frozen earth

and she using words like



and meaning them.



  1. LilyAnne Rice · January 8, 2016

    Beautiful and tragic, and the quote too.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Eric · January 8, 2016

    Like words of truth written on my soul. You have a way of nostalgic makes me want to read old love letters. β™‘ beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chrissy · January 8, 2016

      That’s beautiful. If I can do that, then I’ve done something right. πŸ™πŸΌπŸ’•

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Chrissy · January 8, 2016

    Muses are overrated


  4. thelonelyauthorblog · January 9, 2016

    Beautiful Chrissy. My dear muses are not overrated. You are the perfect one.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Chrissy · May 31, 2016

    Reblogged this on Christina Strigas .


  6. rumblefishbone66 · June 1, 2016

    Such fabulous writing; you have an uncanny gift of reaching into someone’s heart strings and play upon them; so many moods, colours and depth of emotions always writing from your soul.Ron

    Liked by 1 person

    • Chrissy · June 2, 2016

      Ron, thank you so much for that, I feel blessed to reach so many people and who connect to my word, who woulda thunk? lol


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