It calmed her down through a world that is never silent
It is well past noon and the sun’s rays piercing through the gap in the curtains have long passed when she surrenders to today and contracts her stomach muscles to pull herself out of bed.
She crawls into a day that will be riddled with routine; and out of a bed that will not be made because innocent chaos must be sprinkled into her life as pepper is milled onto her fries. So the first half begins again – brushing of caffeine-stained teeth, bathing a sin-ridden body, gulping down far-too-bitter coffee, scrambling through a crowd with a handbag too big for her waist, rolling her eyes into a phone while complaints are shoved down her throat, refilling her cup with a seventh dose of coffee before rushing home to change.
She may as well not bother to undress and redress, for the men she submits her body to care not for what she wears. But it is not these men that she gets dressed for; it is for the lady in her. She takes solace in that fact that each night, before she slips into her plunging-neck-lined-figure-hugging dress and studded platforms, her mind and soul are safely hidden in a faraway place. The second half of her day is one she knows had not been chosen for her, but one that flirted with her fate when it knocked on her door.
Another dawn has come and the voices in her head call back her mind and soul, giving her the strength to relax her closed eyes when the world around her forgets that it is not only lullabies that help us sleep.