Yesterday, I was unhappy
About the girl I saw in the mirror,
But ignored the physical flaws
In favour of an extraordinary day
Overflowing with joyous celebration.
I was anxious having to wait
For a car that never came,
And needing to find
A new way to the room
Of happy eyes and masked smiles.
I recall a fleeting happiness
And coming down from a high;
Being dropped off at a peak
And being told to climb down.
Don’t complain.
I can’t complain that the car
Is parked too far up the hill,
Even though we had passed
At least two other parking spots;
And can’t complain that I thought
It was more than just a little inconsiderate
To expect women to walk
Down a steep slope in their heels,
Because it’s our fault
That we chose to wear heels, right?
I certainly couldn’t complain
About my ankles beginning to burn
When still needing to walk,
Down that steep hill
With a man considerate enough
To wait for me in intervals,
Yet, not enough to lend me a hand
To fill in the long and awkward silence.
Just forgive and let it go.
Normally it’s easier than this.
Surely, I’m being too uptight
Like the high bun on my head
Held up by pins keeping it in place—
Just dance the pain away
And forget unhappiness,
Just drink a little more,
Take out the pins of your pain
And worry not.
I could never complain
About something so small,
Even when they add up little by little,
Because it means I’m ungrateful
For the good things given to me—
And the happy moments I have.
I can always vocalise my joys
And things I appreciate,
But I can’t ever complain.
Is it just a woman’s destiny
To keep quiet and suffer silently?
To fear being called
High maintenance or too much?
Hey, why are you crying about yesterday?
Because I was unhappy.
You’re high maintenance.
Ok.
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