White Flag

I have not yet waved my white flag.

I feel exhaustion and I feel defeat, I am tired of fighting and my body cannot take much more.

But I have not yet waved that white flag.

My head pounds, each thud becomes louder as it drowns out my muddled thoughts. I close my eyes in hopes of finding peace in every breath I take, but it hurts to breathe. 

And the white flag has not yet been waved.

My lips quiver as I fight to hold back the tears, the first escapes and with that a flood more, harsh and unstoppable. I clench my jaw in hopes that the silence will bring some clarity, but my cry escapes without much of a fight.

And that white flag remains un waved 

I caress my fragile face with the warm tissue that is my hand and remind myself why I am still here, why, although defeat stares me blankly in the face, I have not yet waved my white flag.


I woke up like this

I know I’m winning at life if I’m able to cleanse my face before going to bed. On the contrary, if I wake up confused at the crack of dawn with no real idea of what time it is, then I know things aren’t going well. And if I’m still in my ‘going out’ clothes, then things REALLY aren’t going well. This happened last night (surprise, surprise). I rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put my retainers in (the struggle is real), when I look up at the mirror and am confronted with my make up staring back at me just as I had left it, but oilier, much, much, oilier (emphasis on the oily). I have to say, I was impressed my lipstick was still in tact, but oh how I’ve failed at living. This can’t be a good start to the week. Hey ho, at least I have something to write about.