My therapist calls me girl full of shame
and I apologize for it. Shame, it is
 
flattened ears of the dog who digs holes
in the off-white carpet of a rental
 
in distress. I binge Cheetos at night.
I feel too full to walk the dog who
 
will die. Not now but at some point.
A pen tucked tight behind my ear
 
suggests a togetherness. I’ve got this.
All together here. Let’s wake now,
 
let’s go get us the morning eggs - look!
Me weighing my longbody pre/post
 
shower; I could and should choose to
stop. Bags of dog poop, are these
 
shame, too? I’m sorry for buying
another scale off Amazon after
 
I smashed the old one with a hammer.
I’m also sorry for using Amazon
 
and for all the bad things I said about
Irwin, Pennsylvania and for my
 
thumbs, for eating all the chocolate
chips, for the hoarded junk mail.
 
I say Colleen, life’s just a dull collection
of these things, plus a good strong
 
cup of strong coffee to choke down
the taste of Tuesday’s dawn.

Samantha DeFlitch

< BACK | NEXT >

TABLE OF CONTENTS