grace is the way your loose hanging pants fit right over the ankle bracelet because they are out of fashion. they are not tight. you are awkward and out of fashion and therefore you are able to hide your shame with khaki colored loose hanging pants that are professional but unflattering. combined with your giant teal sweater you could stand against a wall for days and no one would give you a second look. this is refreshing and when you lie on the couch in the break room no one can see what you are really hiding.

“just need to get away for a second.”
“I completely get it,” Rebecca said. “need any help?”
“nope, everyone is good and took their meds and I am going to do the sign out in a second.”

I made no attempts to charm her or start anymore conversation. we sat in silence while she finished her paperwork at the desk and then wished me goodnight on her way to the other property with our other clients. I laid there for five more minutes without movement which felt like a record. when I did break my spell to shift my body, I saw it. the four lines on my arm. horizontal so as not to bleed out.

I remember coming home from work, in a similar mood as the day I was on the couch in my job’s office, but hungry. I was very hungry. didn’t eat dinner with everyone in the dining room like I usually did. didn’t snack while I was there.  I was making toast or something easy and fast. I opened the drawer to find every single knife was gone. even the butter knives.

he walked out.
“where the fuck are the knives?”
he just looked at me.
“where are the knives, (redacted)?” I asked again, visibly irritated, still in dirty work uniform, hair in a ponytail. no makeup. no real substance.
“I hid them.”


where am I?

I am washing my hands in the psych unit at Presbyterian hospital noticing my scars are gone. 

“how to forget everything day 2,140”

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