The Menopause

The Menopause

I wake in sweat, not from a dream,

just fire beneath my skin

my bones have learned to moan at night

my nerves are wearing thin

The mirror’s cruel, it tells no lies

I see a face I knew

the woman I was still stares from there

but now her eyes look through

My pillow’s wet, the sheets are damp

no comfort left in bed

the night is long, my joints complain

and war begins in head

A thousand thoughts, none stay for long

they flutter, then they’re gone

my mind once sharp as any blade

is now just barely on

I cry, I shout, then laugh out loud

for reasons I can’t name

I’m tired of saying sorry now

when none of this is sane

The heat comes sudden, cruel and bold

it rises without cause

I fan my face with shaking hands

and curse the silent pause

No rhythm left, no steady ground

my moods are not my own

my body fights with phantom rules

I face it all alone

They say it’s just a phase we face

they say it will not last

but I have burned through seasons here

and mourned the recent past

I miss the me I used to be

the strength, the ease, the grace

now aches and heat and sleepless nights

have taken up her place

No potion helps, no calm remains

no rest within this frame

I walk a line of fire and fog

a ghost without a name

Yet still I stand, I drag each day

through storm and silent war

a fighter wrapped in softer skin

who’s not herself no more

Now every breath feels like a debt

each hour feels the same

I live half-lost, half-burning out

a shadow in a menopausal game