if it’ll feel like scraping

Illustration by Sofia Robledo Rower

she’s still alive online i show up in her little window

there was a green light there wasn’t longing, gave up

on metaphors after i accidentally said shitshow in front


of some nine-year-old at the library, someone today said i

meant to call you this weekend but realized i’d rather be

alone and we laughed wow that’s not a compliment, someone


today said wait are you a communist or an idealist and

i think it was a mistake but said poet to be clever, evasive.

someone today on voicemail said biopsy, not sure if that’s


surgery or if procedure means it’s not, how far into my body

you’ve got to go to find something conclusive. in bathroom stall

took picture of upside-down cockroach on the floor but all the


person next to me heard was the camera noise my phone made,

i used to wait for some dumb girl to be a green circle before i’d

write and then she’d go red, blame it on bad connection. wonder


if i’ll ever forget the number i memorized from her machine, what

exactly they’ll scrape out of me, if it’ll feel like scraping, if my

body’s nearly as serious as i am. today there wasn’t any longing

when i saw her green just sudden dread and quickly closed tab.


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