Daydream (p.IV)

This poem is about the real reoccurring dreams I have had for about a year or more now.

Here’s the dream

(you have heard this one before) :

I lay my left hand flat on the kitchen counter

I take the biggest knife we own

I curl all of my fingers inward accept for the ring finger

And I swing the knife down right below the first knuckle

And severe the wretched finger

From the wretched hand.

Left hand forgive me

for all I have done.

“I have borne witness to your abuse

and could never condemn what you have become,”

left hand says. 

At the mercy of my right hand

I drop the severed finger into the garbage disposal,

ensuring it will never be reattached.