Before –

I envied her
for her crop-top confidence,
short short long-legged
perfection
anyone could see.

We all adored her:
beauty personified.
She danced and dazzled,
always mesmerized, our
Genie in a bottle.

After –

I pitied her
for her non-stop indulgence,
quick quick can’t stop
dereliction
anyone could see.

We all ignored her
true self compromised.
She muttered, mumbled,
never detoxified, our
Genie in a bottle.

Too Late –

I asked of her
was it our silence or her
liquor’s mirror
reflection
none of us could see.

We all mourned her and,
sobered, realized:
We never let her
be anybody but our
Genie in a bottle.