Glass (Crank 2)

again.

I’m

spinning

out of

control

again.

Stepping

over

the edge

again.

Knocking

Pounding. Little fists

falling against the wood

of my bedroom door.

Wake up, sleepyhead!

Daddy has to go to work.

Devon’s voice is bright

as the sunshine, painting

streaks on the walls.

I throw back the sheets.

Blood. Lots of it. Great.

My monthly visitor. At

least I don’t have to feel

so bad about not calling

the doctor. No need for

the pill today, anyway.

I clean up, strip the sheets

from the bed and take

them down to the washer.

The girls are in the kitchen,