Before I get the kids

I will sit in the car and cry in the driveway

Overwhelmed by the feelings that linger

I will mourn for the dreams that are dead.

I might go through a drive through

On my way to pick them up

And order a large French fry because

Those cookies I keep hidden were not enough

To silence the chattering inside me.

I will stuff fingerfuls of hot potato into my mouth as I drive,

Knowing that the salt and the fat

Will just make me feel worse

Once the joy of tasting it has faded.

And before I go in the building to get my kids

I will wipe away my tears

And try to stuff down my unhappiness

Staring in the rear view mirror

Scolding my reflection for her red eyes and dark circles

Until I’ve pulled my mask back on

So that my kids don’t think “mom is still sad.”

And when I open the car door

I will be a pretender

Doling out my love and laughter without limits

Until I put the kids in bed

And I am certain they are asleep.

Then I will return to feeling this grief.