Her son made her cry in her heart for the many first times in a long time. Her eyes are tired of the words she speak, and her weight, a bare minimum of herself.
Once upon a time, women usually closed their eyes at night to sleep,
but now they sleep with their heads up, their eyes barely closed
and minds weary of the things they know not or do know.
Tirelessly, hands shaking, trying to grab a bottle of water has become impossible.
Exhausted eyes, arms, legs, achy body, breastfeeding mom, independent, financially improving, has big dreams yet slowly and barely moving into her career phase, a mother of happy crisis.
A man and a woman, what’s the difference when she is both in one (WOMAN)?
Why the need for the man? Her eyes are wide open, trying to care for her home, herself, school, family, and life, while trying to fit into society’s standards of “successful”: fruitful womanhood, which are misunderstood as a basic standard.
She lacks patience, like an old lady who ruined her life to find love in a man she already is. Unbothered yet determined like the wings of an eagle, awake like the owl at night and time, scarcely noticing the hands of hard work.
Oh, there she is.
Unvalued, un-noticed, un-rewarded, un-praised, un-cherished, un-desired, inadequate to her own suffering. Redundant like the piece of a broken mirror, she grabs the bottle and takes a sip, closing her eyes to dream again, even when it’s impossible.
Where is the man who promised her the world? Somewhere in the middle of everywhere, doing everything else but his own to cater; what dangerous heart, karma is even scared to hit such desolence of an intangible heart.
