|They held me down,
Blades are cheap,
Again and again they cut,
And I scream and I scream.
It’s so remote, no turning back.
We’re off to see your grandmother,
And they act like they’re so happy.
You’ll be beautiful, they say.
No-one talks about it, we all know.
Sometimes we don’t come back.
‘Why didn’t you just say no?’ he asks.
Like I knew, like I had any idea.
It’s easy for you. I spat. You don’t have to.
‘But if my wife, my sister, my daughter …’ He says.
What right have you, I say,
To try to walk in my shoes?
It’s too late now, you hold me down.
|I chose to go.
I don’t know how she did it,
Alert until she faints.
I shouldn’t have read this,
Shouldn’t have thought …
A gory trip through YouTube, I can’t stop.
It’s the not knowing that’s driven me here,
Or is it the knowing,
Knowing that my mother died?
And if I’d known, and if I know,
And if I could see, would I still?
And will my girl? What daughter?
My breasts are still untried,
Should I wait?
I choose the knife.