under my therapist’s guidance,
I switch chairs to talk
to my inner predator.

I want to learn more about
her; what to call her and
where she hides sometimes.
how she starts
to seep into
me, crawl with me.
    now, now,
  listen to the guilt,
  it’s talking,
my therapist gently
interrupts.

I decided to have some boundaries
with the universe;
lined the edges of my bed with
geranium and lilac threads.    
my tub dripped nightly:
an altar of salt and
lavender sage.
watched my toes glide to the surface
by a dozen votives.
tease the cat
with little splashes at her nose.
forget everything.
my entire winter
was littered with
shards of celestite
and low violin.
I could see the sky when I wanted
from my dining room table
or on a brisk walk
to pick up oranges and Earl Gray
for the morning.
rediscovered medicine in prayer and herb
and open mourning for my karmic retribution,
suddenly rectified,
suddenly deserved.
(do you deserve the good?)

amethyst in my sock drawer and jasper
near the lamp. I held
one shout in my throat

in an effort to continue to
subjugate myself.

protect myself from myself.
protect myself from herself.

but it’s so tiring;
that anorexic
bloodlust,
the doe eyes and
planned outfits,
the scent so close
you begin to change shape
without notice.
you begin to grow a
mandible heart.
you begin to drool.
you begin to chomp
a little at their wrists.
I decided to get rid of my light
and aventurine,
I calmly tell her
the following week.
cross my legs and wait.
and what do you plan
to do now? she asked
me.

I plan to enjoy myself.
I plan to spend the year
fat; replete in web
and feast.
“gestalt”

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