Graded on a Curve
I got my first mammogram, and then I wrote this poem.
Baby
sitter
milk
maid
mother
made
monster.
Man
made
mistakes
every time
I let you
touch me.
I prove
I’ll never
learn.
Lesson:
was head of the class
then just
a sweet
piece
of
ass.
Trauma
bond.
Snatched.
How did I ever
get this
stupid?
Body:
breasts
too
dense
to check
for cancer.
Even my
mammary
glands
fail
the
test.
And still,
they grade
me.
About the Creator
Cali Loria
Over punctuating, under delivering.
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The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I love how you broke the lines so short, word by word and gave so much power to what you went through with it.