She sits back in her chair
Her eyes on me like stage lights
Red lips move and I flinch
Words may break my bones
She asks: what does recovery mean to you

I sit in silence as a crystal ball plummets through my empty insides
I hear it smash at my feet
And fall to my knees
I gather shards, they slice through my fingers as I try to piece them back together
So many sizes, fragments that can see the past, chunks of a possible future
My blood is not glue, the red smeared pieces chink to the ground

I look up, squinting in the spotlights
She blinks slowly and I breath in the flickers of dark,
live in the space between heartbeats

I do not need recovery
I need a transformation


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