Into the morning light I rise,
a reluctant soldier clad in skin,
hair a tangle map of sleepless nights,
the ghost of yesterday weighs within.
Eyebrows, half-plucked reminders
of a time when self-care felt like a dance,
now a chore - a forgotten ritual,
each brushstroke of make-up, a heavy sigh.
I force a smile, an actress in my own play,
lucky if the...
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