fuck | Literary Arts | Pittsburgh | Pittsburgh City Paper

I used to imagine myself
in Tyler’s 1992 rusty red neon
slowly opening the passenger door
the moment he picked up speed on 60.

seventy-five is the perfect number

Imagined myself falling out on the pavement,
becoming one with the roadkill
we always seem to ignore, but
his speedometer was broken.

I once carved fuck onto my upper left thigh,
because I heard that blood is our life force
– guess I’m just one of those people who
have to see it to believe it. I learned
kitchen knives do not suffice.

A Wednesday in September,
I told myself I didn’t need to eat.
I mean, there’s always next Wednesday. Next Wednesday never came, only
had one bite of green beans on Thanksgiving
– then ran on a treadmill.

seventy-five is the perfect number

Tori told me
I was disappearing.
No one else noticed, so
I took it as a compliment.

- Chelsey Brooks

Chelsey Brooks is a Senior at Carlow University. She majors in Psychology with concentrations in Counseling and Crisis & Trauma. After graduation, she plans to work with individuals struggling with drug and alcohol addiction. Eventually, she aspires to further her education and start a private practice as a counselor/therapist. She lives in Center, PA. Many writers featured in Chapter & Verse are guests of Prosody, produced by Jan Beatty. Prosody airs every Saturday morning on 90.5 FM.

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