OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF DOCTORS | HLR’s poem shares her experience of putting her body in the hands of strangers.
Your blood is
If you were my daughter,
I honestly wouldn’t know what to do with you.
I’ve decided that you are not currently in crisis
because you’re wearing clean jeans,
so you’re free to go!
You have a very shy cervix.
I would let you borrow my pen
but you’ll probably steal it so…
Either my blood pressure monitor is broken
or you’re on the cusp of death right now.
It’s funny because you look normal.
You can live without water,
Are these from rough sex
or do you always bruise like a peach?
Look at the state of you. It’s such a shame,
you could look really pretty if you made a bit of effort.
We’ve run out of vegetarian options
so I’ve brought you 4 pots of jelly.
Yeah, you don’t seem stupid enough to fall pregnant.
You can press this buzzer any time you need help,
but please don’t press it, it’s annoying.
At least when you’re mentally ill,
life is never boring!
HLR | treacleheart.com
HLR is a 20-something writer of creative non-fiction, mainly short prose and poetry. She writes about challenging subjects such as mental illness, addiction, suicide and grief with brutal honesty and sardonic British droll. Her gritty confessional style has been acquired through years of mental angst and too much time spent in the pub. HLR was born and raised in north London, and is yet to escape. A list of previous publications can be found here.