They found it difficult to put it in, doctor and nurse, me
on my side, knees to my chest, it poking at me here and there before finding
the gap it needed to reach.
I only cried out once before the real pain came, the twinge
and then the bite, with the doctor giving me the countdown to how many more I
needed to endure, always more than I thought I could stand, the twinge and then
the bite, another piece of my flesh, put into a jar for posterity, bits of me
already foreign, like spit as a kid that got cold in the palm of my hand, good
for somethings, but never to reingest, something alien, not of this earth, the
nurse clutching the monitor to tell the doctor where to strike next, twinge before
the bite, as I bit my lips against it, with only a few more to go, before it is
over, if it ever is, jus a few more, twinge before the bite, if I can hold out.
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