(originally written August 2019. TW for homophobia, medical horror)
If I’d thought, I would’ve brought my phone
Downloaded a couple of podcasts
Plugged in my headphones
And listened to them while my uterus burned
I was really quite bored on that table
Laid spread-eagle while the doctor grumbled
Asked for the twelfth time if I was a virgin
I’m not brave enough to tell him the truth
I need this surgery and already
Had to jump through so many hoops for it
I can’t risk the doctor backing out now
Because he won’t do surgery on a dyke
So I answer with a simple no
And stare up at the off-white ceiling
Trying to ignore the faint smell of bacon
And wishing I could’ve brought my phone