I have been 30 for a month now. Before my birthday I dyed my raven hair bubblegum pink. That lasted 2 months. Then I chopped my mid-back length hair off up to my chin and dyed it black again. I cut off all the stories tangled in my hair.
I can see my body betraying me. I don’t fight hard enough against it, though. My skin doesn’t feel soft and supple. My chest is covered in marks. I see 4 different doctors. My ankles are weak from not being careful enough. My under eyes are sunken like my father’s now. I am tired. I am wheezy. I stare at the ceiling.