Surrounded
By What Bleeds
by Kara
Knickerbocker
When
Ryan shot his first deer, my father hung it by its hooves from the rafters in
the basement, taught him how to gut it. The scarlet river coursed out of its
open body, onto the cement floor until my dad hosed it down the drain. The
shock of it swinging is still enough to drown me.
*
My
mother bought me a red necklace when I was thirteen. A gift to welcome me to
womanhood. She said she thought the color was appropriate. She came home, armed
with boxes of pads of varying thickness, ones with and without wings. I wanted
to use them to fly to some other body where I didn’t feel this slickness
between my legs. Didn’t have crimson stains in my underwear, wet in that
dizzying and unfamiliar smell.
*
There
is a name for how I got the mark above my left eye. Excoriation. I have
squeezed, popped, ripped open every part of me. Scratched until my t-shirts
were splotched and my fingertips tinted that red-orange. I expected the
bleeding would happen; picked at scabs so much that the white scars are
reminders of everything that has hurt me. I wear them like I chose them for
this body. Nobody tells you about the itch of healing.
*
In the
backyard my niece mixes blues, yellows, and reds under a Florida sun. A streak
here, a great blob there. They drip drop down the canvas, splatter the blades
of grass below. She watches it happen, and then pulls her hand back too
quickly. The bright cruel cut curves into a smile. The paper wears her shade of
lifeblood red. Not even three years old, she is already learning to not trust
what is safe, that even the prettiest colors can bleed.
* * * * *
Kara Knickerbocker is a poet and writer from Pennsylvania and the author of The Shedding Before the Swell (Dancing Girl Press, 2018) and Next to Everything that is Breakable (Finishing Line Press, 2017). Her most recent poetry and essays have been published or are forthcoming in print and online publications including: Cabildo Quarterly, The Laurel Review, and the anthology Voices from the Attic Vol XXII. She lives in Pittsburgh where she works at Carnegie Mellon University, writes with the Madwomen in the Attic at Carlow University, and co-curates the MadFridays Reading Series.
The essence of life that reminds us of our mortality.
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