There are things I can’t unstitch from my memory


What did you find there in between the floorboards

at my house in my hometown?

I need something to cauterize the sore between my thighs

incisors coming out of hiding from the inside

and I can still feel where it burns



Everything makes me sweat

I wish the beach would swallow me whole 

and spit me out drenched in salt

or just leave me to tread water

my body a strange peninsula



My mother taught me to shave a razor in each hand 

passing them back and forth between the sink and me 

it took 20 minutes to get through all the hair

I never felt so clean 

standing there dripping in small wells of blood 

slightly unheroic in that way 

I don’t know who taught me pride, 

like the sin



I have to miss practice 

I push and I push and the cotton won’t take

I guess you don’t even drain against the current

it’s just that I don’t want the blood to pool around my ankles

and onto the deck

I’d have to soak up the drops with my toes

feign another scrape



Are there matches under the floorboards of our own homes?

we can scorch the wound with tears instead

the results find no infection

I still want to watch it dry up and slide off my skin

and I can still feel where it burns 

my head isn’t buried in the sand 

it’s rolling underwater


If you enjoyed this piece, be sure to check out Blooming in the Darkness

by anastasiafoley

Anastasia Foley is a Junior at New York University studying English and Economics in the College of Arts and Science. She is a member of The Feminist Society at NYU, the Lawyer Alumni Mentoring Program, and Delta Gamma. She is originally from Newton, MA and is grateful to share a hometown with B.J. Novak, John Krasinski, and Matt LeBlanc.

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