When Social Workers Weep

Standard

image

She’d dream of Crock-Pot pepper steak when the going got tough
Angel food cake propped upside down to cool on a Coke bottle
She’d read reports that stress morphed your cells
Slowed your metabolism and thickened arteries
Decades in, her fingers remained pink
And her body tumor free

What she dreaded most
Was the look of dumbfounded horror
In the eyes of professionals
She wondered if they went home
Climbed into bed next to their partners
And spooled out her story

She should be an alcoholic
Obese or a secret cutter
Gray and sloven
Rage-fully bitter
Morose
Cold

Instead she was
Obscenely ordinary

 

Julie Ayers
NaPoWriMo Day 28

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s