An Ode to My Dark Circles.
by Mariela Flores ’23
It’s as if someone cut you out of a magazine
and glued you under my eyes.
You are the accessory that I have been given,
even in my well-rested times.
I’ll always know when I’m tired
but I won’t ever need an eyeshadow base,
and even if I don’t like you that morning,
you’ll always be a part of my face.
You’re the star witness of my best nights writing
your brown-ish purple hue lets others know that I am still fighting.
I keep my darkest secrets in the roundness of your bags
the swollen fragile skin stays soft despite the tags.
They remind me of my father whenever I look in the mirror.
Caffeine courses through our blood and it helps us see much clearer.
I don’t know who I’d be if you weren’t there.
Makeup tried to hide you
but I didn’t like the feeling or the purple-lacking stare.
I see now you are my inheritance
a face I cannot escape,
but I’ll always remember to love
my tired face.