normalcy

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two months ago, rising up from the floor seemed impossible.

a dog’s paws, literally on her arm, holding. consoling.

there was the shaking. the uncontrollable sobbing.

and then the shriveling. the weakness. the darkness. the hunger.

but now

lying in bed, naked, a glimmer of light peeks through the blinds,

accentuating the curves of her body.

they’re back.

now she’s much fuller. no longer sunken and sullen.

now she’s squishy again in all the right places.

she’s no longer carrying the bony, pointy body of a month ago.

this is how time, and lots of cheese, heals brokenness.

this is how she knows she’s getting well again.

she’s not starving. not for love. not for attention. not for food.

she’s rising. she’s living. she’s loving.

it’s what she does.

sometimes you have to backspace to go forward.

a car turns. headlights dance across the bed. her bare hand lies on her bare belly.

the dog runs up the stairs and settles in against her door for the night.

everyone’s going to be ok.

 

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