Inside of you is a shipwreck:
hull torn away to skeletal ribs,
empty cavern,
devastation painted with your name.
You will want to lie down in the ocean
and let your body turn to sea foam,
let the waves pound you into a shape
less sharp, something fragile,
something that will hurt less when he touches it.
Your chipped clamshell of a heart
seeps apologies that sink to the ocean floor.
Inside of you is a shipwreck:
you have been drowning for a long time.
It will never completely go away.
This desperation is smoke in your lungs,
this hunger, twisting a claw through your heart.
You have learned to swallow
this saltwater without choking.
You have been suffocating for so long
that breathing is no longer natural, not since
you carved gills into your wrists
and pretended to be a mermaid.
Inside of you is a shipwreck,
inside of you is something from the deep,
now no one can predict what perils lie
below your surface.
Crack the shell in which he locked
your voice and sing sweet so that he will follow
and throw himself onto your jagged rocks,
your serrated maw.
Devour him in pieces:
first the hands that held the scalpel
that he thrust into your soul,
then his liver,
his kidneys, his heart.
Save his head for last
so you can hold it underwater and whisper
you did this to me,
now see what I’ve become.
Inside of you is a shipwreck,
and it is full of creatures with teeth.
Martina Dominique Dansereau is a girl-aligned (gender)queer writer from the lower mainland of Vancouver, Canada, who spends the majority of xyr time blogging, snuggling snakes, and crying over slam poetry. For xem, writing is a vital part of healing from trauma and mental illness as well as a platform to share xyr voice as a marginalized identity. For over a year now xe has taken up performing spoken word at the Vancouver Poetry Slam and other venues, and xe has work published in the Rising Phoenix Review. Xe is passionate about anti-oppression, queering platonic relationships, radicalizing self-care, and going on midnight walks in the rain.
