Swollen jawed, she turns on Stevie Nicks at Red Rocks
and let the ice melt in her Hurricane. She’s paying for a digital time warp,
Endlessly streaming in the chilly living room of Friday night.
This is how she always hid before:
Bundled on a couch, TV flickering all hours of the night
a slow burning technicolor flame that melted into her dreams
until the insomnia lost its grip.
She hopes she hasn’t hurt others while trying to keep herself safe,
a glittering glass cage that cuts both ways.
Rachel Cathleen Stewart holds a B.A. in English: Creative Writing from the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. Sometimes her words get published, but she holds a rejection pile close to her heart.