Belle Banke
30 minutes before the operation
i wash myself in blood soap
that smells like strawberries
sickly, staining everything it touches
i scrub myself so
hard i think
my skin will
disappear.
that smells like strawberries
sickly, staining everything it touches
i scrub myself so
hard i think
my skin will
disappear.
i coat my nose in antibiotic wax
that smells like
how i imagine suffocation
feels.
that smells like
how i imagine suffocation
feels.
i sit in a cubicle
at least fifteen scrub people around me
they screw electrodes to my head
so I can literally
hear myself
think.
at least fifteen scrub people around me
they screw electrodes to my head
so I can literally
hear myself
think.
i lay down on the cold metal table
of operating room four
turn my head to the only window
to the outside world
of operating room four
turn my head to the only window
to the outside world
and i see Frankenstein’s monster
staring back at me in the glass reflection.
staring back at me in the glass reflection.
stranger in the mirror
i bring my fingertips to reach her—
she mimics me, coldy
forces me to watch
as she runs her hands down
the jagged line between my breasts
forces me to watch
as she runs her hands down
the jagged line between my breasts
where some places still bleed
when she touches them
when she touches them
it smells like iodine and trauma.
bruises wallpaper my body
with sickly yellow splotches
with sickly yellow splotches
a needle from my neck down into my heart
a needle from my hand all the way up my forearm
two tiny slits where the devil sat in my chest cavity
the clear tubes pulled all the blood and fluids out of me
the clear tubes pulled all the blood and fluids out of me
the sternum and clavicle
now protrude like knives from my skin
now protrude like knives from my skin
she looks into my eyes
and the only thought that forms is
and the only thought that forms is
i do not know you.
post-op depression
how are you feeling?
she asks me,
pen poised
and waiting,
her eyes flick to lips as they ready my answer—
she asks me,
pen poised
and waiting,
her eyes flick to lips as they ready my answer—
every breath drowns me a little more
is all i can manage
her stern stare melts away
as she watches the first tear form
then fall my bones suddenly turn to lead
they don’t allow me to wipe it away
is all i can manage
her stern stare melts away
as she watches the first tear form
then fall my bones suddenly turn to lead
they don’t allow me to wipe it away
instead it runs the rut its predecessors
carved into my skin i have
forgotten how to live my body
lies so heavy i become a waterfall.
carved into my skin i have
forgotten how to live my body
lies so heavy i become a waterfall.
blue, cross, no shield in sight
i didn’t ask for this
i yell
as i slam my door shut
so i don’t have to look
at the pile
of medical bills
avalanching
off the desk.
i yell
as i slam my door shut
so i don’t have to look
at the pile
of medical bills
avalanching
off the desk.
i don’t want to suffer
any more than you
want to pay for it
any more than you
want to pay for it
mom tells me my life is priceless
but last time i checked
every emergency room visit
has a $150.00 copay.
but last time i checked
every emergency room visit
has a $150.00 copay.
doctors
you saved me
but you still couldn't
save me.
but you still couldn't
save me.
|
|
