Mindful Writing 2014 – 19

Congratulating you on your engagement, I debate over the exclamation point. It needs to sound genuine. I want it to be genuine. I’m really not messaging you to remind you I exist.

I go with the exclamation point.

Afterward, I consider the relief as my heart plunks unceremoniously, without any sense of grace or dramatics, out of my chest. It’s not like I can talk to anyone about it. I’m not even sure what I would say.

So I tell the whole world.

You never read my blog anyway.

winter stars—
learning the lyrics
to a new song

Mindful Writing 2014 – 19

Mindful Writing 2014 – 18

I lean back, topless, over the edge of the tub with a dry wash cloth over my face. My mother tells me it’s coming, and I kindly ask her not to waterboard me with the white vinegar.

The chill slips over my scalp and splatters into the tub. My nose burns and I crave chips. The iciness comes after.

“I guess I should have heated it up first,” my mother comments.

It takes several pours before my hyper copper hair begins to absorb the vinegar. I shiver to the brink of feeling my teeth chatter, but she assures me the color is coming out.

first to drive
in the fresh snow
I round the corner
too fast—all the possibilities
before the car stops

Mindful Writing 2014 – 18