Spring 2024

I Want to Unsubscribe, but instead

By Alison Terjek

Text C to confirm
I can’t do this
            Subscribe to waiting
            room jitters, label them

They label anxiety
me when I ask
to wait
            outside. At the picnic
            table for an hour
I fold

then unfold the list
of meds they gave me
to research.
                        Label them options.
                        Tell myself this’ll be

amidst infinite foot
tapping, trembling.
Follow when
                        I’m called to answer
                        most questions with
nearly everyday.

Text YES to get a 30 day
supply. Then NO
to holidays
                        over stuffing, over
                        asking and too many
sides of stigma.

Remember to text YES
to renew. Text OK
to confirm
                        I’m safe. Take with
sunrise and breathe
deeply. Let

snow come on it’s own
terms. Swallow each
day whole.
                        No two hurt exactly
                        the same. Text HELP
if you relate.

Alison Terjek is a writer and mental health advocate living in Northwestern CT. She spends her weekends outdoors where she searches for peace and inspiration in the mountains. Her poetry has appeared in RiverSedge, Soundings East, The Healing Muse, Watershed Review, Peregrine, Causeway Lit, and elsewhere.

Spring 2024