Tuesday, February 03, 2009


half-moon indents of fingernails 
on pink-white palm 
where her hands clench into tight, tight fists   

jaw joint aches 
where her teeth scrape against 
one another each night 
wearing a hole 
through the plastic guard meant to protect them   

flour dots spattered on her sweater 
from the chewy-gooey chocolate-chip cookies 
she will not eat, 
made just to have something to do   

bad country music playing 
cup of coffee going lukewarm, then cooler 
as she worries on 
things she cannot change


At 2/3/09, 4:23 PM, Blogger Scraps said...

((((BIG HUGS))))

You and me. Ice cream.

I know it won't fix or change anything, but at least it will taste good.

Shall we call it a date?


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