Living In Terror Poem by Tracey Tucker

My mother couldn’t understand why
I turn away sometimes
I don’t think I can explain it to myself either
It’s one of those complications in life

It’s like one day waking up
And realizing that life will not always be the same
It’s like finding out that Santa Clause isn’t real
Or that life was not all about fairytales

It wasn’t my mother’s grey hair or grey eyebrow
It wasn’t that I was uncaring or that I loved my mother any less
But I found it hard to look at her
In that state, with her flat chest

I could always live in denial
Find a temporary place of safety
But when she was without her artificial implants
It felt like Truth was disrupting my serenity

My mother worked hard from Linstead to Coronation Market
To provide for her family
So now in her golden years she should be sitting back relaxing
Instead of fighting this demon that has taken over her body

My breasts were once my beauty
The validation on my womanhood
Now they stand like two homegrown terrorists
Unpredictable, intimidating and harmful

Who said aging isn’t all that bad?
Who said 60 is the new 50?
Well if my fate is sealed by heredity
I want to stay forever 30