HOME | DD

Description
The woman behind the desk
Hands me a form and tells me,
It'll only be a while.

Check off all that apply
Eating disorder, depression, pregnancy, restlessness
We're all here under the same sun
Where nothing's ever light and the jukebox
Is always playing one of those cheesy sixties songs,
While you write your soul off on the walls with blue chalk,
[there's nothing like the feeling
Of being eraseable]

She tells me to sit down. She says
depression
Like it's Christmas instead of a four-letter word
That says too little and means too much.
She knows
What she's talking about and for an instant
I believe she might be da Vinci
Reincarnated.

I'm not myself around her. Shy. Quiet.
I confess my inner secrets, showing her
The map to Atlantis. I want to be free.
I want to feel again. She says this is possible,
Crossing and uncrossing her legs, making notes
In pencil, telling me everything remains confidential as
I stare at the kleenex box, at the turquoise walls,
At my shoes. I wonder what she thinks of me
And then I don't care. I can be anyone.

When one word slips
They exhale as one, letters trembling
Against one another, eager, too sensitive,
Forming into sentences unable to stop.
Writing poetry with my mouth now
Saying this is like Anorexia. It eats you
Up inside and leaves you with charcoaled fingers,
Headaches resting against bus seats,

And she encourages me
To pursue things. That I'm not handicapped,
Or broken. I'm just a little rougher
Around internal edges.

There are days,
Weeks, where tears look beautiful
And a bottle of Advil is less than a cure.
There are times when she looks at me and says to me
Prove it. Prove you can't do it. Prove you're a failure.
When I ask her that I need an answer
But don't know what the question is,
She asks me why I want to know. I sit back in my seat,
Review the forms.

I walk outside and realize
The leaves are changing colours.