NO BABY, BLOOD
Olivia Kamer
two weeks with a strange man
It feels like you’ve had a good year
It feels like you’re the sole survivor
It feels like you’re the mechanic
like you’re king disease
universal Panda
Blue Flame
You feel like road rage
Bentley
hookah
Top Gun
You feel like you hit the Jackpot
and you’re black jack
The New Coming
Playboy, a special blend (777)
Hot Rush
Ghost
the hi-dragon
and Go to Heaven
and I’m pregnant with his baby
because I had willed it so
when he gave several
answers as to what heroin
feels like, hm yeah, I used
to do heroin, it was that
casual, and now I’m
pregnant and he wants me
to get rid of it
that was one of the strangest conversations I’d had
I am scared to hold fast to any ideas
for fear I won’t live up to them
The process of learning is so humiliating
yet all these people who have ideas
(who are they?)
and discuss ideas, they must also
lay in their hot room sweating
sometimes,
right? Unable to string a thought
together,
just return to the kitchen cabinet for another handful of chocolate chips
That was one of the strangest conversations I’d had, and somehow funny. I knew he’d say something like he didn’t believe in love, and I knew I’d believe it, that HE believed he didn’t believe in love. It was funny because it was sad, and it was funny because I KNEW he would say something like I don’t believe in love and we’d both believe that he believed he didn’t believe in love and I knew I’d STILL have that little thought that I could be an exception to that rule, really every rule, though I also KNEW that after all this I’d KNOW that wasn’t true and that I’m so ordinary, so PAINFULLY ordinary that I’d know all these thoughts would happen and still allow myself to go through with thinking them.
he had lost all fascination with me
I’d hate to chase after a girl like that, he said, smiling
what? I said
He’d changed his location already and didn’t
(couldn’t)
know I’d checked that out
he couldn’t know I was
killing that thing inside me that belies my enslavement to my biology
or trying to, really,
writing about getting pregnant with his baby
and wanting him to want me to get rid of it
reflecting upon
how absolutely ordinary I am
besides
my ability to obsess
which is something I think should be explored in greater detail
so allow me to continue
There are few moments of pure clarity where the road map to balance seems inherent, perfect, known to me the way my own name is, without consciousness. Oh, yeah, wouldn't it feel so good to protect my energy? To not allow anyone inside of my body who did not deserve to be there? Of course! It’s so simple!
how fucked up do you have to be
To ignore all the gross details, no, not even the details themselves but the fact that you noticed them and continued on anyway, like how his mouth tasted like dill and he smelled like sweat, hadn’t showered and didn’t care and answered the door shirtless, kissed with too much tongue, and you thought I’m not ever doing this again, only to want to do it again, very soon. How he scrolled on tik tok while you asked to be touched, he did not notice the absolute purity of your skin or the softness of your body and you wanted to leave without saying anything, but you didn’t, you said you wanted to sleep in your own bed even though that was a lie and he said, relieved, YOU GET IT, referring to that thing he told you at dinner about the girl he would spend days with, talking, fucking, then they’d go to their separate rooms to sleep. How fucked up do you have to be?
well you must’ve liked him enough
because you’re here and thinking about the difference between obsession and psychosis
and you found his interest in schizophrenia charming
god, that smile is so beautiful
Would the baby have that smile?
did he even know his smile was that beautiful?
I want to have thoughts of value
but I have thoughts like
jasmine thigh
no baby, blood
wait for it to be dark
there was no baby of course
but I very much wanted one
Olivia Kamer is a writer living in Los Angeles. Her work has been published in Spectra, Soft Qtrly, Same Faces Collective, and elsewhere. She has also self-published four chapbooks of poetry.