Maia Huddleston
turning over an old stone
rumps and ridges, some sharp enough to cut through bone when my anemia sets in
cold and unstable, the colors in the parking lot blend together like watercolors diluted
i press two fingers to my chest and draw them up to my flaking lips
blistering over the wounds from new years eve
this is anew
by the grace of god, this time will be different
walking through the aisles at Casey’s on Main
reeses cups and gummy worms, some sweet enough to hit a nerve when my anxiety sets in
blurred and crying, the drinks inside the refrigerators melt into puddles of cane sugar and red #3
i squeeze my eyes shut and hope it clears my altered vision
pooling around the tears from this week’s frustration
this is anew
by the grace of god, this time will be different
sitting in the corner booth
playing games of tic-tac-toe and hangman, some close enough to break a bond when my ptsd sets in
alert and unashamed, my amygdala tells me the exit is too far away
i tap my thumb to my middle finger and take a deep breath
letting my lungs hitch as i exhale
this is anew
by the grace of god, this time will be different