When did I become the moon? Engrossed in dark femininity, trying to maintain my light for myself and others. I shine most of the time but I still have times of darkness. When people think of me, they forget about the phase when I fade away. When my light goes out and I feel like I can’t move on. Luckily, everything happens in phases.
At times, my life feels like the overplayed scene of a woman pinned between a car and a tree. She is stuck, immobile, and has seconds left. She seeks last words but none come to mind. A review of her well-routined life and her free time spent sulking. Ready to say goodbye.
With each breath, crisp fall air fills her lungs with decay and sorrow. She is sick. The plants are dying and the birds are migrating. Her body is preparing for the dark season.
The coming months will be without sunlight. The air will grow cold, eventually, bone chilling. She will do fine the first few months but the bleak will get to her in due time. The depression will take over but she cannot forget it will be cured again with sunlight and a warm embrace.