This is fantastic! Conformity to others' expectations is a *Procrustean bed* indeed. And submission can be one excellent means for escaping it.
My chosen method is persistent self-assertion. But this is a really difficult path to tread, as it's often taken as an infringement upon others. Perhaps I'm just a glutton for embarrassment.
I had to read again and again to absorb it fully. Not that I didn't understand, just that I wanted first to rush to the end, only to realise I needed to slow down to appreciate the depth in the writing.
Demetria, this piece strutted in like it knew exactly where it was going — sharp heels, soft shadows, and that delicious “don’t flinch now” energy that only a misfit-turned-mirror-maker can write. The way you twist the Procrustean bed into something almost seductive before snapping the illusion? Gorgeous mischief.
And that shift — from being trimmed into palatable shapes to being held in your full, unruly architecture — felt like watching a phoenix side-eye its own ashes and say, “mmm, no thank you, I’ve got better plans.”
Your lines land with that quiet, dangerous tenderness… the kind that knows exactly where it hurts and still chooses gentleness.
Demetria This moved! It lived! The journey from violation to sanctuary you portray is raw, honest, and a bit delicate. Your line, “Your longing, caged beneath your ribs / until even your breath forgets / that it once stirred,” is heartbreaking. Such pain. Then the transition toward the second frame described, feels earned and liberating. It’s a beautiful and powerful assertion of selfhood.
You write this shift with a familiarity that’s unmistakable—
as if you’ve stood inside both frames and learned their weight from the inside out.
What moves most is how the new frame doesn’t confine anything at all—
it reveals.
And what it reveals here is a strength that was never meant to be made small.
A piece that remembers, and lets the reader remember too.
Beautifully done.
This is fantastic! Conformity to others' expectations is a *Procrustean bed* indeed. And submission can be one excellent means for escaping it.
My chosen method is persistent self-assertion. But this is a really difficult path to tread, as it's often taken as an infringement upon others. Perhaps I'm just a glutton for embarrassment.
Beautifully haunting.
Ouffff 🥵
I had to read again and again to absorb it fully. Not that I didn't understand, just that I wanted first to rush to the end, only to realise I needed to slow down to appreciate the depth in the writing.
Wow.... wonderful ❤️🔥
Demetria, this piece strutted in like it knew exactly where it was going — sharp heels, soft shadows, and that delicious “don’t flinch now” energy that only a misfit-turned-mirror-maker can write. The way you twist the Procrustean bed into something almost seductive before snapping the illusion? Gorgeous mischief.
And that shift — from being trimmed into palatable shapes to being held in your full, unruly architecture — felt like watching a phoenix side-eye its own ashes and say, “mmm, no thank you, I’ve got better plans.”
Your lines land with that quiet, dangerous tenderness… the kind that knows exactly where it hurts and still chooses gentleness.
Loved every unpolished inch of it.
Demetria This moved! It lived! The journey from violation to sanctuary you portray is raw, honest, and a bit delicate. Your line, “Your longing, caged beneath your ribs / until even your breath forgets / that it once stirred,” is heartbreaking. Such pain. Then the transition toward the second frame described, feels earned and liberating. It’s a beautiful and powerful assertion of selfhood.