Dear U (poem)

*note* This is an edited version of a poem that I’d submitted to a good friend (also excellent blogger) for an exhibition on feminism just a few weeks ago. I’ve decided to share it with all of you on this blog. Hope you enjoy!

Dear U
How are you?
It’s been some twenty-plus years
holed up, sandwiched among:
ovaries, fallopian tubes, the large intestine
Tangled in their intricacies
that leave you spinning
as much as I did that one night:

Too drunk to remember
him shoving me into the closet
of some house party
of a friend of a friend’s,
his kisses like nothing
but the moths
buried in the corners with
tossed-up clothes long forgotten
and worn-out shoes
too lazy to be thrown away

Him over me
entering me
again and again
Despite protests of
“I already have a boyfriend.”
U screaming, I bleeding
stench of body and closet
in holy matrimony
that he tells himself
every time he presses a girl
against the dark wall
until she breaks.

Not until the next day
did I see the red streaks
oxidized into rust
open in an imperfect V
between my legs
that I remember.

And I remember
running, blinking through
blinding Sunday sun
buying time, tearing through
that packet for reassurance
that all was not lost.

No worries, it read.
You’re going to be fine.

Still, it’s been some twenty-plus years
holed up, sandwiched among
ovaries, fallopian tubes, the large intestine
that somewhere, something got lost
and I haven’t a clue
of how to retrieve it.

— The Finicky Cynic

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