I don’t remember the actual event but I
do remember it was around
the time I was feeling slightly suicidal and
you were watching House MD
and laughing at whatever misadventure
those phony doctors were on and you
looked at me and diagnosed me with
cavernous sinus thrombosis which
you calmly explained as a blood clot
at the base of my skull and I said

fuck you you’re only in medical school
and you started to speak and I said
how the fuck can you tell?

and you said

severe headache,
drooping eyelids,
there’s swelling ‘round your eyes
and you can’t even move them

and you said

you need an MRI
and God if there is truly a blood clot in my head
let it strike me down right here right now

because I do not want to go in a cold bright machine
and have doctors like the ones on TV tell me I am dying
because I want the dying to happen of my own accord
of my own free will

and the TV said the word angiography
and I said sincerely, fuck that
and I went upstairs to sleep, you followed me
and said I’m going to take care of you, babe,
you’re sick and I think I either did spit
in your face or I dreamt of spitting in your face.

Lucy Rattner is a 22-year-old writer from New York, currently attending Purchase College for Creative Writing. Her poem “Girlhood” was nominated for a Puschcart Prize by Viewless Wings Podcast. She adores the sublime, the surreal, and the sentimental.