MENTAL HELL SCAPES
Dear Fear, Take My Hotness. I’d Rather Have Freedom
Snakes shed skin to grow. I shed beauty
I’m about to face an old fear.
I’m about to let my old face go around naked: I’m switching from thick-framed glasses to contact lenses.
Thick frames are a friend. They partially hide the dark circles under my eyes.
They keep me safe from…
The comments.
All my life, people have spotted my face, leaned in, and said, “You look tired” in the spirit of “You look SO tired. Exhausted! You, sir, have the look of the dead. You look like a camp counselor about to tell a ghost story, lighting his face unflatteringly with a flashlight to make him look like someone back from the grave to tell a story about hell. That’s you!”
To be fair to my commenters, I do look tired. Profoundly.
Proof
In high school French, my teacher stopped everything, glided up to me, and bellowed something in what I assume was French:
“OH LA LA! Tu as d’horribles poches sous tes putains d’yeux!”
Because I knew less than half a lick of French, I smiled, which prompted the teacher to keep teaching me:
