Britney

1. When I saw the back tire of the car roll over my left ankle all I could see was the dark of the car’s underneath and the maroon of a fading limb and when the sun hit me again I held a stranger’s hand and told them that my body hadn’t been equipped to handle this kind of pain.

a. Put here for destructive testing but I think the lever got pulled up too fast too fast!!

2. I want to eat the swollen parts of me in the ambulance
when every misdiagnosis
is a separate spectrum of pain.

And the nicer EMT asks me if Spanish prayer is OK and I smile, because the words I don’t understand remind me of my abuela even though I wince at the fresh mental image of her dropping my hand when I reached for it as I crumple in the bike lane.

3. I am in the hollow of my memories of my mother in the hospital STOP
I am alone in the ER with each of her sick doppelgangers sprinting through my mind I count the gauze to calm them down STOP
I curl up with no blankets like a dead man’s curve STOP
My hands won’t write and I wonder if I would trade their insides for my foot STOP.

4. Every time a new nurse asks when my mother is getting here I stare at the fresh lumps of skin sitting in a pile at the edge of the bed and scream:

b. a) SHE’S DEAD! b) She isn’t home right now, can I take a message?

5. They all love a good tragedy. ♦