done dirty deeds
i want to get tattooed in my wrists (the most vulnerable part of me) a sylvia plath line: “I, TOO, CREATE CORPSES”
(a reminder that i, too, can create a corpse of myself )
but it’s actually written from the point of view of a woman who’s suffered a miscarriage (THREE WOMEN)
often, i think, who am i to contemplate the meaning of birth
i don’t know what time i was born; my mother refuses to tell me (it’s a chinese supersition that if someone else knows the time of your birth, they will have complete power & control over you)
(or maybe it’s my mom’s supersition)
which is, like, oddly self-fulfilling because that’s exactly what happened
i am not good at the following things: crying dying trying climbing spelunking
i learned how to ride a horse a couple of months ago and i enjoyed the feeling of it
i am good at the following things: reaching bottom and reaching bottom again
my mother told me that i wouldn’t amount to anything & on my worst days i believed her
my mother gave birth to me but i am her worst miscarriage; she created a skeleton where limbs should be
she sewed neuroses into the hems of my neurons
genetic poison
if i have any use at all, it is necessary for me to commit a sin
i am a woman after all; eden’s serpent pumps the blood into my veins