What They Don’t Tell you about Lobotomies

There are two ways to perform a lobotomy.

One is to drill a hole on each side of the skull.

Measured, precise—

pierced like thighs opening on command.

The other is more intimate, through the eye socket—direct, wet.

You said yes to both. By then,

you were already halfway gone.

When he asked you to look him in the eye,

you did. Not because you were brave,

but because you had so much fear.

You're never really used to holding eye contact,

there's too much risk. But you thought,

what's there left to hide? To protect?

Without blinking, you watched

as he knowingly slips on the gloves—

familiar, like second skin.

The first time he entered, it didn't hurt. Not really.

More like a stretch,

a slicing open of the skin by something cold, foreign.

His movements were practiced, calculated,

like he's done it a thousand times.

Severing memories from their triggers,

cutting grief from its source.

But here's the thing they don't tell you:

lobotomy doesn't take away the pain,

it just teaches your body how to play dead.

And you were ready to learn.

So, you let him strip you, let him pierce,

let him go deeper, deeper.

Until all that was left of you

was a version that could stare at a man

and smile on command.

Neriza Gueta is a writer, translator, and graduate of Creative Writing from the University of the Philippines. She works across educational publishing, media, and development, and studies German at the Goethe-Institut. Creative writing remains her way of making sense of the world, and she hopes to claim her own space in the literary landscape.