An alarm clock that turns on a light
slowly
over the course of thirty minutes.
I still set my phone
to scream at 6 AM.
Just in case.
For consistency.
Some days I get out of bed easy.
Put on shorts, a sports bra, a tank top.
Pull on a highlighter-green hoodie.
Slip into electric-pink running shoes.
Head out the door. Continue reading →
Long-stemmed wine glasses hurled against walls.
Televisions thrown out windows.
Knuckles raked against brick walls,
pummeled against concrete.
We tell ourselves we can’t do such things.
Settle for scrubbing tubs.
Screaming into pillows.
Flailing around our living space
manically. Continue reading →
I wrestle off my ski coat, fleece-lined sweatshirt, and down-filled vest.
The shape of my body finally makes an appearance.
Move the pillows, sit down, and pull my feet underneath me.
“We’re like Russian nesting dolls this time of year, aren’t we?”
It’s the same every time I’m here.
He lights a tea candle,
I settle myself and take a drink of water
out of my Klean Kanteen.
Pause. Deep breath.
“How’ve you been?”
“Good,” he says, smiles at me,
but does not return the question.
Just waits.
Therapy. Continue reading →
Ruby Pipes 