I’m over there in the corner
of a dive bar, quiet tongued
and soul eyed.
I pinch my arm to bruise present
on my skin, but thirty years a go
blinks beneath neon.
Reluctant, terrified, sober as a crucifix,
I walk questions to an empty chair
and pray answers won’t smell like alcohol.
Silence beads little droplets on my skin
until I’m feverish enough to gurgle who
from my throat in a semblance of language.
Frowning she places a finger on my lips
and speaks, Don’t ask…I just came
to learn how I can change my future.
©Susie Clevenger 2018
Written from some tough news I recently received. No, it isn't me or my family.