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March |
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a poem by Ally Malinenko
Bleed Myself
I've cut you out of my heart
like a deft surgeon
my nimble fingers plucking that
section that was dedicated,
oh so dedicated, to you.
and I carried it around in my pocket
till I found a place to bury it
near the swing set.
I thought it would hurt
but now I feel lighter
so I'm thinking of doing it again,
taking all the parts of me that belong to someone else
and leaving them in the tall reeds
by the Mississippi
or throwing them off the pier at the bottom of Brooklyn.
Or packing them,
red hot and rubbery
into foam and shipping them
to small town in India
where they will lay unopened
tied in brown paper
at the feet of a beautiful woman.
This is an exorcism
done bodily.
I'm taking out the pieces that are no longer me
and returning them to the earth.
A burial.
A renewal.
Proof of the part speaking for the whole
because the scatterings will one day be unearthed
and will tell the story of a girl, disembodied.
It's all I can think to do
to stop the bile creeping up my throat.
I'll bleed myself.
And I will lay awake at night and try not to think about the fact
that you'll never know
how dry
I can get.
like a deft surgeon
my nimble fingers plucking that
section that was dedicated,
oh so dedicated, to you.
and I carried it around in my pocket
till I found a place to bury it
near the swing set.
but now I feel lighter
so I'm thinking of doing it again,
taking all the parts of me that belong to someone else
and leaving them in the tall reeds
by the Mississippi
or throwing them off the pier at the bottom of Brooklyn.
Or packing them,
red hot and rubbery
into foam and shipping them
to small town in India
where they will lay unopened
tied in brown paper
at the feet of a beautiful woman.
done bodily.
I'm taking out the pieces that are no longer me
and returning them to the earth.
A burial.
A renewal.
Proof of the part speaking for the whole
because the scatterings will one day be unearthed
and will tell the story of a girl, disembodied.
to stop the bile creeping up my throat.
I'll bleed myself.
And I will lay awake at night and try not to think about the fact
that you'll never know
how dry
I can get.