Jump Start

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me with my brain still just in tact enough to recollect. Me, with anger enlivening my eyes while I sit in their waiting rooms like a threat.

The professionals act like

the theft of half my life was

 no

               big

                            deal

because

they didn't mean to.

In a cloak of benevolence

under the guise of medicine

/ help / undercover

and POOF!

almost twenty years

gone

                 just

                                  like

that.

My anger

no longer a symptom once

I left the reservation.

 

So, now what?

I challenge their ideas

and practices,

me with my brain still just in tact enough

to recollect.

Me, with anger enlivening my eyes

while I sit in their waiting rooms

like a threat.



They try and calm me

with kindness

they bill for and

take notes about

except I'm not in confession

anymore.

I know this is

not

             my

                         church.

 


I've got to jump start my life

again like I've had to

before,

and begin

                        again,

                                      and again,

        and again.



 

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