Is this my midlife crisis? Without the fancy car, without the whore on the side... is this it? Do women experience something similar when they try to return to life after kids?
I’ve found that social media, in all its glory, has shut me up. With so many voices and so many opportunities to scream out our opinions, when are we actually heard and does it even matter anymore?
Despite popular beliefs that cosmetics are merely a mask for imperfections or a crutch of superficiality, I will rather argue them to be a key component in how women want society to denote who they are.
My skin feels foreign to me again. If I could uncloak myself from the suit I wear, I would. I would step outside of this tainted body that has betrayed me.
Brightness won't dim
and the shadows do sigh. Silent dissolution,
forgotten and shy.
Today is the last day,
The blinds will be closed.
The coffee runs sour.
The twitch in my eye.
They'll be awake soon. My beating hearts. They are snuggled in their beds, safe from the complexities of the world. I, their shield. “Someday you will ache like I do,” I whisper out to them, wishing that I could curl up to them and be absorbed in their peaceful dreams. “But not today.”