Recovery

Why don’t I feel comfortable around you?

Is it the dim lighting

or the basement feel?

the wood paneling

or the mint green paint job?

Is it the way I can’t see your face

or your face

sitting behind me

or where your gaze might land–

on my shoulder

or on my toenails without polish?

I’m afraid again to raise my hand

and find myself thinking of all the things I could say

but choose not to say

justifying why my voice does not need to be heard

amongst the sea of pain

the drowning bodies screaming

in the vast ocean of denial-

(substitution)

(rationalization)

(degradation)

(constipation)

and so I will

keep coming back

for more.

Watching

waiting for the chance for

more.

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