Zoo And Her Worms
“Close your eyes Zoo.”
I do as I’m told. I want to believe everything is as simple as that small command. Close your eyes Zoo. I want to believe in the darkness I see behind my lids. That somewhere in there I can leave this body behind and float away.
“Are you in your body Zoo?”
I have to think about that. Am I? I know I have to be honest.
“No. Not really.”
“Where are you?”
I answer before I can equivocate.
“Hunting. Seeking. Out there somewhere.”
The silence feels full of negation.
“I don’t know. Things.”
I sigh. I can give up a few secrets.
“Peace. Quiet. Woman. Softness.”
The words taste like shit in my mouth.
I don’t say anything. I don’t want to tell. I don’t want to let go of the secrets that sit in my gut curled up like sleeping tapeworms. They aren’t to be revealed. They are there to eat and grow and devour me from the inside out. I wish I could say that I love them out loud, that the burning in my belly keeps me whole and real and sane.
I open my eyes and sit up. I look at the doctor and then away. I’m done for today.
“Susanna, I’m a little disappointed with you. I think you’re not trying.”
I shrug. It doesn’t matter to me right now. None of this matters to me. I don’t want to be fixed. Or like all the rest of them.
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
I look out the window and wait.
“When you come back to your body, where do you land?”
I smile and get my purse, smooth my skirt and turn to look back at the doctor before I step out.
“My hungry cunt. Thanks, bye Doc.”
The doctor scribbles and I leave. I won't be back, I’m comfortable with myself and my darkness and my tapeworms of secrets with teeth.