Glass (Crank 2)

seven pounds, eleven ounces.

Minus placenta, water, etcetera,

that leaves about twenty pounds

of belly flab, jelly thighs,

and chipmunk cheeks I need

to lose before feeling positive

about how I look again.

And until I do that, I know

I’ll never find someone new to love.

So Maybe It Will Come

As no surprise to you that lately

I have been hearing the plea

of the monster, distant

at first but creeping closer.

Louder. Come back to me,

Kristina. Hurry back, Bree.

I closed my ears for a long

while, pleaded with it to please

shut up, please go away,

please leave me alone.

But I’m starting to come

around. Maybe a short

(and I mean no long-term

commitments!) stroll

with the monster might

slim me down, rev me up

and offer the impetus to slip

into my future, better equipped

to deal with the mindless

tedium that is my life.