targetless
Poem by Alexandra Weiss
i try to be gracious because knowing i have the mutation is a privilege, not compared to not having it but compared to my life before, to having it and not knowing i'm grateful to have options information, access, health insurance as much as they should be basic rights they're not in this country and my aunt, she saved us and i can't waste that now i'm the oldest woman in the family who has it, it's my turn to carry this torch my family needs someone to light the way and survive so normally i wouldn't write like this i'd be too scared of hurting feelings scaring my younger relatives or coming across as ungrateful for the surgery that saved my life or the research that made it possible or the deaths of those who didn't have the gift of knowing ahead of time because it falls in the selection shadow and was only discovered in the 90s people have even called my poems careful but i don't want to be careful nobody writes to be careful instead, i'm going to scream until my voice cracks scar ragged like the red lines in my chest wall where they used to be because sometimes it hurts to be grateful sometimes i'm angry even though there's nobody to be angry at because it's nobody's fault, not mine, not my parents' and while it's true i'm ashkenazi i got it from the goy side of the family so i can't even blame it on the nazis or the ghettoes and i don't want to blame my body i want to love it, but i don't know how because it's still trying to kill me still collecting dna damage as the risk percentage increases year by year until it's time for the next surgery so i try to breathe and forget what comes next to be a previvor who already made the right choice i try to be proud of my scars but they remind me that this thing is in me so deep i have to cut myself up to survive making preemptive strike after preemptive strike until finally i'm like my rage targetless new years it's late here and i'm texting myself by candlelight to phoebe bridgers the candles are for you phyllis |
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