Image by Cottonbro Studios
Claire Scott is a poetry candidate in the University of Arkansas's MFA in Creative Writing & Translation program. She has poetry forthcoming from the Laurel Review, is the Poetry Editor of the Arkansas International, and serves on the Editorial Board of Nimrod International Journal.
Strip Mall Christian Therapist
I’m up before dawn, running until I’m red-faced
& dizzy. Afternoons,
I pray over Psalms on the back porch until heat
lulls me asleep.
I’m so hungry this summer: fourteen
& counting calories
on my phone. Shame-faced in the cross-filled
therapist’s office.
I’m there because sometimes I stop breathing
& my mom found
too many strands of long, blonde hair in my
bathroom trash.
My brother is in Kansas, sent away for his anger.
Still, his presence
swells in the upstairs hallway like the July air after
yesterday’s storm.
The therapist says anxiety is the absence of trust in
God.
My hands will stop shaking if I say more prayers.
Regarding hurting myself, she tells me to repeat:
my body is a temple & I owe more honor to my Creator.
Once home, I sit on my bathroom counter
& pluck my eyebrows until nothing is left.
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