Neriza Gueta
What They Don’t Tell You About Lobotomy
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 is 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 and translator with a degree in Creative Writing from the University of the Philippines. Her work spans educational publishing, media, and development, including subtitling for international film and television. On the side, Neriza studies German and writes poetry, often romanticizing her life as she sits with a cup of coffee on her sunny roof deck.
Banner Art:
Eye, Ei Q, 1937, Art Institute Chicago
