An Ode to My Dark Circles.

by The Cowl Editor on October 21, 2021


Poetry


a drawing of a face
Image courtesy of Mariela Flores ’23

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.