fish

I woke up this morning
bleeding
and with a large fish in my stomach.

the fish is perhaps a mackerel.

with all my short breathes
it squirms once,
kicks
flips it fins a few times
opens and closes its mouth,
gasping for air and
non-existent amniotic fluids.

it hurts. I'm allergic to seafood.

I swallow pills
and sit very still
and hope quietly that this
fish
will go away.

it takes a week, and I bleed the entire time
while sheorhee slits my intestines
stomach
uterus
tubes
cervix
all that stuff.

the fish makes me clean up the mess.

we get cozy in my computer chair
where I talk to it for awhile
complaining about how it isn't even paying rent

the fish tells me the pills are stupid and that self-medicating is for people with daddy issues

I want someone to open a door on my stomach.

it wakes me up at twelve every morning
what with its thrashing and wriggling and
short breathes
for air
i mean, amniotic fluid-
and after a week, it leaves me with scales
and fish juice
for a day.

i hate that mackeral as much as i hate you.
Iit reminds me of how you will never make me feel the least bit good
but you make such beautiful things happen instead.