A Pinker Side

“When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are. Describe this new you.” — Daily Post for August 20, 2013

I straighten up

Head back, chest forward

The only colors on me are the ones that look good on me, or so I’ve heard:

Pastels, pinks, greens

An hour early, I’m up to do my hair,

My makeup must be perfect

How could anyone see me looking less than chiseled, polished, prepped?

I do as I’m told

No questions

Everything is early to bed, early to rise

There’s some free time at the end of the day, sure,

But I’m not going anywhere

Not when my family is at home waiting for me

I am the perfect cookie-cutter wife/mother/partner

Submitting to the mold that’s for me

Only appropriate, only proper, only in daylight

Because at night, after dishes are done and everybody is in bed

I go out, and I’m a street fighter

Bashing brains in, letting all that Mrs. Manicured, Mrs. Gee Whiz Okeydokey

Tear out a motherfucker’s throat

I am feared and loved

The cunt of your nightmares

Because there is nothing more pure and beautiful and terrifying

Than white-hot, white-gold fury that manifests itself

In blood

Guts

And glory.

 

And when the sun comes up, I wake up

Confused

Because my hair is still perfectly coiffed

Except for somebody’s tooth caught in a ringlet.

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What would your dark side be like? Would it really be so dark or just…different?