By T.J. Barnum
Sometimes she explodes. It’s not pretty.
She buys several mirrors to watch for signs of approaching combustion.
She enrolls in yoga classes, starts kick-boxing, gets a buddha tattoo.
Friends tell her everyone has bad moments.
She reads books: It’s habit. It’s buried pain. It’s bi-polar.
Reframe. See a counselor. Pray.
She gets her tongue pierced as a reminder to stop.
One day a stranger at a market hands her a key:
“Why are you so mad at yourself?”
She starts conversations with the person in her mirror.
At first it sucks.
After awhile, they both smile.