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BIO: Molly Clark is a poet and food and travel journalist. She holds an MFA in Creative and Professional Writing from Western Connecticut State University. Molly lives in the Northeast with her very large cat. https://www.mollymaeclark.com/
The Guillotine
I’m on my fifth episode of Criminal Minds today. The villain in this one kills his victims with a homemade guillotine. And I wonder if it hurts. All I can do is lay on the couch and stare at the TV. It hurts. The greasy flyaways from my matted ponytail stick to my face. My sleeve is stiff with snot. My teeth are gritty and slimy. The corner of my eye is crusty with the remnants of tears that have overflowed And dripped sideways. I wonder if it hurts to die by guillotine. Does your head come off clean? Are you left pristine and finally, Painless? Or is the process a bit more jagged - A pulling, choppy, unorganized slice. I wonder if the victims know That separation With a perfectly sharpened blade A quick plunge to blackness Is better than a life prolonged by agonizing moments. There are phone calls to make And people to meet And meetings to attend And all I can do is lay on the couch and stare at the TV. When the people gathered to watch the beheadings – Had they expected more from those that died? To return calls, To go on lunch dates, To make PowerPoint presentations? Did they wonder if they felt pain? I watch on the TV as the blade comes down sharply on the neck of the horrified victim Screaming Sweating And begging. Maybe we all hope to be saved in our final moments. The French called the execution method humane. Perhaps the beheading is painless, But the cruelty lies In the terror And panic And distress Of those final living moments. All this time I haven’t moved. I’m still laying on my side on the couch. I blink once and a tear rolls down into my ear. And I wonder if it hurts to die by guillotine.