grace is the way your bones reset themselves
inside of your chest on the way home from
the police station
and the bail provided by your ex.

“My phone is shattered,” I said aloud to him.

what was more concerning is the way I flinched
when the seatbelt touched me.
the bruise was black and thick
and formed.
it was a little hard to breathe.

“I can’t believe they didn’t take you to the emergency room,”
he shook his head like this was
the first time injustice ever
materialized in my own body in front of him.

I held my broken phone in my lap
and the bag of my belongings,
including my wig..
I had taken it off to show them I had no weapons.
(Tuck it in your cheek.)

“I didn’t want to take the blood test. The German guy said if I refuse the blood test,
I don’t go to the hospital,” I had a very fuzzy idea of the episode.
“I refused to blow in the breathalyzer.
Told them my breath wasn’t strong enough.”

They didn’t take me to the hospital.
I vomited in a metal toilet.
They put me in a special cell alone because I was a suicide risk.
I had muttered something I shouldn’t have as they
let me have a puff of a cigarette
before entering the jail.
(Suicide risk, I wrote on my hand later that night).
They charged me with a hit and run, second dui and
refusing the breathalyzer which is its own crime.
I thought attempted suicide was a crime
but they let me pass out on the toilet’s edge with
broken bones and a head injury smelling my own vomit all night
so I guess justice was served.

And I lived through that.

“How to forget everything day 3”

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