Briefly Described

She had decided that she was too young for her hips.
Too young for a lot of things. Too old for some, too.

A sigh.

They creaked, each yawning slightly every time she moved to get out of bed, generally before the sun rose. They creaked and yawned during a lot.

Another sigh.

Cats, she thought, My hips need cats and slippers and a ratty robe that’s uncomfortably revealing so the neighbors who stop by to make sure I’m still eating occasionally avoid direct eye contact.

But she was thirty-two, and not supposed to creak so much.

It was really only her hips.
Her knees were fine, elbows decent.

Weren’t your bones supposed to regrow every ten years? Regrow?
Regenerate. Renew, maybe.
Yet hers were not young, though. Still too old.

Each one held little cracks, filled with the weight of living.
One on the left hip for the way his tongue had curled whenever he said her name.
She missed that tongue.

Another for the last time he said her name.
No flirtation there,
No teasing curl.
No amity at all, in fact.
Though it was possible she did not remember correctly at all: sometimes her therapist says that she changes the way she remembers things to perpetuate her own misery, so maybe he meant “Don’t contact me again” in a much more friendly way than it could come across.
A crack in her right hip for that one.

One for the lost mother,
The one who could have found the words for this far more succinctly.
Probably.

One for the
Textbook supportive friends
Who smiled and laughed and got it,
But really didn’t get it at all.

One for the beautiful face she sometimes thought she saw reflected,
But only for brief moments,
And often only when the reflection
Was in a pair of dark-brown-with-some-green-around-the-edges eyes.

There were others too,
But she wasn’t supposed to dwell on them (therapy rule)
Because dwelling on things that
Aren’t real
Is “absurd”
And “self-abusive”
But then what about dwelling on things that are real?
Or things that were once real, but aren’t anymore? Do they have their own category: the-once-real-but-probably-never-to-be-real-again?
She had a few of those.

One creak for each.

Heavy hips
Carry the weight
Sit, sit.

They creak when she sits.
Too old.

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