Dear Doctor,

I’m sorry I was late for our session I didn’t think it would take this             
Long to walk here from the library I broke                          
Both my ankles, thanks

To these stupid stilt feet I was born into

Glass slippers, glass ceilings

I had a dream that I was rolling 
In a pile of shards of glass, and shivers so small   
They bedded my gullible skin

Embedded immediately, into my malleable flesh,
It was all business, they embezzled my dazzling blood        
In shivers, and slivers, the broken glass was all over me

All inside of me, sharp silver

I was shoving the glass inside of me, I was wolfing down mouthfuls

It was creating holes inside my holes

It made me just

This mass of entryways and exits

My body is an abstract painting titled

THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS

The worst part was that this dream occurred-

This dream came to me in daylight

In another dream I was the opposite

Of a princess, a disenfranchised dishrag, dishwater

Blonde and supposed to marry this villainous imaginary man

I refused I refused I refused, but I was just refuse, remember?

So they threw me into a cave they threw me into a fit

I clenched my fists and ripped out both my front teeth, the blood
Came quickly, it was hot and tasted like metal
It tasted like metal and wet dirt, like Swedish death metal and

It tasted like hacked-off limbs covered in the syrup of hackneyed pop songs

Sickening how the image of the struggle, the sugar get stuck in your head

My mouth still aches when I think about it

I am still sore in my dreams in my body in my inner thighs that lost

My body is sore with trembling, or trepidation, or fear of repetition

Sores and lesions spilling over with allegiance to this thing
That they will say I brought on myself