Words
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from The Opposite of Robots: Poems
(robocup press 2012): Needing Ways Disappointments live beneath my skin. I pluck them from dust, push them deep down to the dermis – for safe-keeping. I plant the bitter roots of my needing ways – for a rainy day. The scabs that form eventually flake away – like so many regrets. Now only scar tissue remains – all pink and unquestioning. |
from The Skin Map (a novel), excerpt from a chapter called Appearances:
The What Ifs began. What if I couldn’t talk my way out of this? What if the doctors locked me up and threw away the key? What about work tomorrow? But I still had a way out. The officers hadn’t searched my purse. Had they, they would’ve confiscated my box of Pal razor blades. I was grateful for their incompetence. I dug through my purse but I couldn’t find the blades. I regretted carrying around so much junk. I located a small box and pulled it to the surface. It was only matches. I wiggled my fingers to the bottom and this time located the blades. I opened the end of the tiny cardboard box and shook it until a blade slid out. Carefully, so as not to cut my fingers, I slid off the protective cover. I contorted the fingers of my right hand into a claw and pointed my fingers downward so that the sharp edge touched my left wrist. The coolness of the metal against my flesh brought great relief, like returning home after a long trip. The van lurched to a stop. I dropped the blade, along with my purse and its contents. I bent over and scrambled to pick up what I could – lipstick, the box of Pals, the key card I used to enter the building at work, a few tampons, a small address book, cell phone, lotion, and a few crumpled pieces of paper. One of the officers jangled keys on the other side of the door. Officer B opened the door before I could gather the rest of my things. “Need some help, there?” he asked. “No, I got it.” I didn’t want him to find the blades. Officer B waited while I crammed my belongings – minus the loose razor blade I had been unable to locate – into my purse. I stood up, hunched over, and edged my way toward the exit. Officer B grabbed my left arm to help me down. “Watch your step.” He held onto my arm to keep me from falling. He locked the van and led me down a sidewalk towards a door of the hospital. My life had become a hell realm, a bad dream I could not wake from. I thought only of the missed opportunity to escape my suffering – in this lifetime, at least. |
