The Satisfaction of Senescence
Each year, new quirks
reveal themselves as I drop
cloaks of expectations painted
onto me in layers so thin,
I thought they were who I am
instead of imposed
notions of womanhood.
I find delight in shedding them like
old skins trailing behind me making
a map of who I was until I learned
I could discard the weight of other
people’s fears, free to be me.
Loved or hated for my attributes,
they are mine, and
I celebrate without apology.
6 thoughts on "The Satisfaction of Senescence"
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Strong and empowering close, and I learned a new word! Makes me a fan of this poem!
Thank you! I enjoy playing with new words.
Love this! Especially the image of the shedding of snakeskin (ecdysis).
Thank you! It definitely feels like that to me, or how I imagine that would feel anyway.
The shedding herein are the words themselves…
Yes!