I feel ugly
so I cut my hair short
shorter
I try to forget I am a sexual being
because no one desires a woman with shorn locks
And as a woman in my 40’s
I would make a great spy or a serial killer
because I have ceased to be relevant
and no one notices me in crowds
or wants to hear my stories
about the men who did me wrong
So I move in the shadows
because darkness suits me
and I silence my voice
because words seem pointless
and I lie down and wait for the sound
of dirt hitting pine
Still histrionic, still a bookwhore; just faking competence because of my kid.
i've choked on my words for far too long
It's not the length of life, but the depth.
This is my mind, it’s not supposed to make sense.
Where Sarcasm Gets Drunk and Let's Its Hair Down
Shining the light of truth on delusion
Researching, investigating, and writing about the paranormal.
You either get it... or you don't.
Inky blackness, a yawning void ~
"Eye Fly High"
A weekly series edited by Jena Schwartz
Read. Ingest the words. Like little blue pills, they will affect you.
the stories behind the pictures, and vice versa
Just my thoughts for all to behold
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A baking and dessert blog.
Writer, Tarot Reader, Designer
a little bit of this and a little bit of that
Seeking Beauty Beyond the Scars
The home of Emma O'Brien
The musings of a scorpion who would have been an eagle
I blog now. I know, I can't believe it either.
Splendid piece of writing 👌
Thank you! And thank you so much for reading!
I have written this narrative in so many ways. You describe the feeling of being forgotten.
It’s the way I feel most days, as if I move in the shadows.
*very well