Bleaker than the windy moors

By Mandy Mo

Bleaker than the windy moors
Mood swings and slamming doors
I fling myself upon the floor
‘She’s having a bad menopause’

Have I become invisible
Derisible or risible?
Robbed of sanity and grace
Salmon pink flush arrests my face

Inner fires, not of delight
The thermostat of dread and fright
Turns and burns and twists and gurns
The future lurks, the stomach churns

24/7 bitch face fight
The duvet flaps throughout the night
Libido in the rubbish bin
All washed down with pints of gin

Devastate, a cruel trick
When my body clock lost its tick
I had to laugh, I had to cry
When the baby race passed me by

Herbal medicine, HRT?
Mindfulness, profanity
The grip is tight, when will I be free
Of this ruthless malady?

About the author

Lifting the lid on not-mum lives and having a peek inside

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