Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was an “I remember” poem. I read an article about Ariel Winter’s breast reduction on Jezebel today, and the discussion in the comments brought back so many memories of having my own reduction/augmentation combo more than a decade ago. If I keep working with this poem, I will probably get rid of the “I remember” framework.
Remembering My Breasts
I remember the stars and stripes t-shirt purposefully torn at the neck and the power of ripping it just a little lower each time.
I remember looking down at it and seeing myself.
I remember hiding a silicone breast in my bedside drawer, contraband like the vibrator I keep there now (also silicone).
I remember doctors, especially the white-haired one who was the only man to ever touch my chest.
I remember lying.
I remember the list of all the ways I might die.
I remember the surgical bra that always smelled of iron and undissolved stitches and someone else’s flannel shirt.
I remember finally trading those in for a halter dress.
I remember shame.
I remember warning Nicole about the scars, lines and circles on pale breast.
I remember her saying she barely saw them.
I remember calling her a liar.
But I don’t remember where or when, just that I never told Elizabeth about scars or silicone and she didn’t ask, just put her mouth on the puckered skin and sucked.