I am at loggerheads with myself. These are the days...the ones when I look in the mirror and see a different outfit, not the clandestine hues I wore 4 years ago, the bruises washed down with smiles and songs. I see color, but the face... that is still the same.
These are the days when I see the weakness in me.
Moreover I know it.
It smirks at me in the mirror capped in blue eye shadow and glitter earrings that I conjured up the night before with dried paint and copper yarn. Today I know that I am a shit load of talk and a heap of no goes. Tall dreams - thats what he said. "Thats all you are Maria, a silly girl who dreams and doesn't know how to 'DO'". Today I fear he may be right. His voice is louder today. Not the nocuous buzzing of 'as per usuals'. But hope springs eternal in Silly-girl-who-dreams-Land. A half-full glass of dapple vinegar. One last gulp to go.
Tomorrow is another day
on Backseat Boulevard.
Another corner at carwash dreams.
A new ode to left over casseroles in the fridge .
A last look at my rainbow poncho,
unravelling at the seams
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