My new place at least.
I wish I could show you around —
Everything is mine !
Or a gift from family or friends or
A fond token of an ex. Not much is left
Of the first train wreck, but I have my back injury for those memories.
Paintings, latex-free therapy bands.
Things that make me feel like
I have a support network.
And a box of
Way, way, way too much rice
To make me feel safe. I can’t explain it —
Some sort of childhood trauma response from excessive diet policing
I just am this way.
I found a place that’s all mine
Somewhere where nothing needs explaining.