Chemical Imbalance: Thoughts And Feelings Of A Woman Experiencing The Depletion Of Estrogen

 

Chemical Imbalance:

Thoughts & Feelings Of A Woman Experiencing The Depletion Of Estrogen.

My thoughts scattered.

♀

A GPS without a satellite.

Being directed to enter and exit from the same on ramp.

This form of travel is unclear, distorted,

and unpleasant.

♀

The road is uneven gravel.

As tires rotate bits of crushed concrete

spew in all

directions.

♀

Disposition of emotions run rabid.

Exhibiting bared teeth,

an accumulation of dripping saliva that emanates into

effervescence, and

varied tones of inflection that escaped as each breath is exhaled.

To warn those around me.

♀

My Mind and Body

are Depleted,

and are being Manipulated by the loss of

Estrogen.

♀

I am over powered by the natural

process of aging.

♀

What happened to that 17-year-old girl?

♀

I feel her maiden within,

yet the mirror reflects

a middle-aged Woman

not yet a

Crone.

♀

Who is this Woman?

Who cry’s for no reason?

♀

Who is over whelmed by the intensity of

heat,

that no one else feels.

♀

Her Mind & Body

deprived from sleep.

♀

She dreams of the past,

fantasizing about her

future.

♀

Trying to accept and embrace

this new phase of

Womanhood.

♀

She lovingly embraces her Loved Ones

and Warns them.

♀

Careful the edges of the eggshells are

sharp and jagged.

♀

I’m trying my best to pick them up as they drop,

except as I pick up one

two drop.

♀

I just want to be Me

Again.

There She Was Right Before Me

I had Envisioned meeting Her

for Oh so long.

🌹

She Was Her Own Woman.

🌹

She possessed Everything I had Imagined.

🌹

We Connected, and Bonded

it was meant to be.

🌹

She was Bent, not Broken

just like me.

🌹

She Trusted, and Shared

the Spark

between Us was visibly there.

🌹

He entered the room smiling

as we lay there before him,

knowing she had met her match.

🌹

We playfully Seduced

his Mind, Body, and Soul.

As we Shared our

new-found Discovery of each other.

The Other Woman

 The Other Woman

 She knows well enough

to respect me.

She knows better than

to ignore me.

I like her in her own right.

I tell myself we should be friends,

not just because it will be easier

but also because it’s

so rare to find

anyone who

gets me

and gets him too.

I could use more friends like her.

And I gather, so could she.

***

 Men are not just scraps of meat,

over which we

think we must fight,

only to hurt ourselves

in the process.

We do not need to fight

over this man.

We are not bitches,

but we can share

the bone

like sisters.

With a common agenda

there is much

we can do

together to further

our own needs.

So much energy

wasted either in subterfuge,

detection,

or intervention.

Better to get it out

and get on with it

than to

cower

in the shadow

of denial

or self-deception.

She knows

I saw him first,

and I know

she won’t be the last

to notice him.

She also knows

that when I

follow my nature,

there will be times I will be glad

she will be there for him,

allowing me to take my leave

when and as I choose

when the glove is on the other hand.

***

She is the perfect

Other Woman.

She knows

what it is like

to walk in my shoes

and what hurts

as well as what feels good

if she will just let it.

I understand her completely

because

I have been her

for him

when someone else was me,

and I wanted to be honest

and remain her friend,

but such was not to be.

***

And now,

as I prepare to take my leave

to explore,

to experience

something new

with someone new

I realize that once again

I am the Other Woman

just as much as she is me.

I want to have so much

in common with this

enlightened woman

who sees me as I am,

accepts me,

even encourages me

to help find pleasure

with this man

she loves so much,

I can’t help

loving

her

for the way

that

she loves him.

If women

of uncommon

consciousness

found their friends

from among

their lovers’

paramours

they would never find themselves

lonely

or friendless

again.

I am the Other Woman

just as much as she is me.