A Bookmark Goes to the Therapist

By Alexander Gold

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Looming towers of trauma surround the burrowed bookmark. 

It stared instead at its tasseled end, dangling over a

Stone-to-the-touch couch.

Cold. Stiff. Metal legs. Leather cover.

Surely it’s not vegan.

 

“I try to get to know everyone I meet.

Which is difficult for me, I fall flat on my greetings,

I’ll forget to soften my tone

Or become head-over-feet engrossed.

I’m usually boned…

Like, in a first impression way.”

 

The bookmark chuckled before it spoke. “I know I’ll meet plenty more characters though.” 

Silence hung above. Bookmark could feel it grow.

 

“Do you see how you’re avoiding my question through your joke?”

 

Bookmark looked up to meet the gaze of this question.

Rhetorical. Blank yet full. Looking away,

Only the bookshelves were visible. Bookmark shivered, broke.

That silence was more comfortable.

 

“…yeah”

“Give it another try. What have you been noticing recently?”

“Sometimes, I feel as though I’m stuck in the pages of someone else’s book”

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