It is tense, concerned and contracted.
It’s early, the air asleep.
We got broken into. The garage.
Jackie thinks, bonus! everyone’s up.
Dude, I don’t want to take you out for pee.
I don’t want to pick up your poo.
I don’t want to feed you.
I want to breathe.
Give me a second.
What the fuck happened?
Holes in the skin, I feel violated.
Like a car crash.
Thank God it wasn’t the car.
Valuables, inventory, a guessing game of what was.
Jackie’s diarrhea is at the ready.
He paces in circles, tail anxious.
Come on people, he wants to say.
It’s on us, all of it.
Hard not to point fingers.
But who fuckin’ cares?
Damage is done.
The lesson came too late.
Diarrhea out. Next step: food.
Jackie circles us expecting the normal routine.
We stand like fixtures
Scratching our heads.
A fog in the brain.
It’s like the zoo when we watch animals.
Observing their natural behavior, well, as natural as you can get in a zoo.
Fit, pleasant to look at.
And I know what she must be thinking.
It’s swirling in her head like thick butter.
The, “Why did I do that?!” to the, “Well, that’s me.”
Yup, you’re right.
And we are all watching.
You gave us no other choice.
Continue reading “animals”
So…I’m leaving in a month, and I cannot take my clients with me.
What? That’s insane.
In order to graduate, I need to also work with teenagers so I’m moving to another facility full time.
Wait. Slow down. What’s going on?
I’m leaving. And I can’t take you with me.
This seems really sudden. How long have you known about this?
What are you feeling right now, what is this bringing up?
Claire, have you known about this for a while?
Would it have changed anything?
Yes! Damn straight. Your decisions affect us, they affect me. Regardless of building boundaries between client and therapist – I’m in your life. And you left me in the dark.
Continue reading “wiggle room”
FADE IN: two men on a bench.
A: She’s dumping me, man. I can’t fuckin’ believe it. I mean. Where did that come from? I thought we were going strong, you know.
B: I get it/
A: /Two fuckin’ years, man. No, over two fuckin’ years. Like, that’s. I mean, that’s like taking out a car loan and you’re almost done with the payments.
A: I mean, a shitty car so the payments are quick, but you get what I’m sayin’. Fuck! I’m never going to do this again, I swear, I’m done.
B: Nah man, don’t say that.
A: No, really! I’m done. I’ve had it. My heart is closing shut from this point on. I feel it happening as we speak. Fuck that bitch.
Continue reading “why aren’t they flowin’?”
I am a clock set on self-destruct
I am hidden, stuck behind walls to keep safe,
I am my greatest enemy,
I am the only person standing,
Yet, I am standing in my own way,
I am the finger looking to point and blame others for all my pain,
I am mad and upset,
I am lost and hidden and scared,
I am misunderstood and judged,
I am such a disappointment,
I am my worst judge.
But I am here,
And I am ready.
Mireya Sanchez Annibali, Pops The Club (Pain of the Prison System)
FADE IN: two at a coffee shop in front of computers.
She: He said it.
He: He said 0 to 60?
He: Success came, like, 0 to 60?
She nods energetically.
She: I think it’s inspirational, you know.
He looks off.
Continue reading “0 to 60”