In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set || First feminist blog on the internet

how to measure pain in a sterile, medical setting

problem chylde

N.B. I’ve tried multiple times to start posts, and sometimes the only way to describe how you feel about something is through a poem. I’ve thought about numerous things today: faith, power, access, care, healing, life, teaching, and the ability to reach out for help. The only complete writing I’ve yielded from all that is this poem. Trigger warning for the imagery — there are allusions to blood and cutting. –MP


in the now,
bloodletting is
a vital solution–
for worlds that
don’t know how to
make you
feel right–

if i can’t heal
and i blanch–
if i stop moving
through dooms of love,
haves of give,
i’ll save you a vein
for all your trouble–

grab disposable razors:
scratch the skins
of the problem–
watch your questions
drip away,
puddle,
spread–

do you answer to your scars?
remember the days
doctors did the cutting
for you–
there is a wrongness,
they said,
let me count the drops–

until it passes,
until you pass away
let me count the drops —
being in the red,
gauze taped to flesh,
the lightness of
bloody being–

every cc mg and ml
will carry in it
a maroon moon song–
the heart is the drum,
the veins a house band,
the life the loudspeaker,
let me count the drops–

13 thoughts on how to measure pain in a sterile, medical setting

  1. Could you please put up a content warning for this? I was triggered by this piece and would like to avoid this happening to anyone else.

  2. i agree with the trigger warning. i was also triggered and my anxiety rose as i read. thx.

  4. this really speaks to me and some of my experience too. i’ve definitely been thinking lately about soul healing, recovering from traumas, moving forward. but to get to the “forward” movement, we have to start in the now and this poem is very real.

  5. I feel like your writing, especially your poems, always say something to me – “speak” to me, as Aaminah says. This poem also says something *for* me, especially right now. I love you and love that you put this here.

  7. Some say

    Feminist
    ain’t something
    to pretend to be
    unless you are.

    and I am.

    Some say

    It ain’t no
    Fashion Statement
    if in fact,
    the afflicted aren’t
    Enthralled with its novelty

    and I for one
    am no fan of identities
    with price tags
    and sell by dates

    even if your eyes
    your ears
    and your heart
    are open

    sometimes
    you’ll start out
    wishing that part of you

    had a shelf life
    shorter than milk

    to be poured away
    when Feminism
    became too hazardous

    to consume.

  8. This poem feels like a gift, Monchel – in part because it opens up a window on what is, for me, an unfamiliar world. Yet the more times I read it the more I realize that though the particulars are unfamiliar, the essence, I guess, of what you are saying fits like an well-worn robe.

  9. Thank you very much for your comments of support and understanding, and thank you Comrade Kevin for feeling free to post a poem here. It’s helping me figure out what I want to bring to the table next and how I want to present it.

  11. I love this poem. A lot. In fact I read it last night and I’ve been thinking about it all day, and the rawness, the submission, the fear and the bravery all tied up together. I love the cummings reference, like it’s a coda to, an echo of, the original poem which was also about submission and bravery.

    This:

    do you answer to your scars?
    remember the days
    doctors did the cutting
    for you–
    there is a wrongness,
    they said,

    is fucking brilliant.

  12. I have a thesis:

    You don’t
    know
    pain.

    You don’t know
    pain
    if you can ignore it.

    You don’t know
    pain
    if to you
    pain
    is just an
    inconvenience.

    You don’t know
    pain
    if you think
    pain
    will make you stronger.

    No.

    No.

    No. You do not know
    pain.

    You don’t know
    pain
    until
    pain
    breaks you.

    Until
    pain
    has left you
    a stranger
    in your own
    mirror.

    Until
    pain
    has left
    cracks
    in your
    mind
    that do not seal.

    Until
    pain
    has left
    voids
    in your
    soul
    where the
    emptiness
    can stare
    back.

    You will only know
    pain
    when you know that
    pain
    just
    hurts.

    Then you’ll know
    all you need to know
    about
    pain.

    Then all you’ll
    want
    is for the
    pain
    to stop.

  13. Pingback: Current Doings « Aaminah

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