Piano Concerto no. 32 In D minor
indentations of a face barely visible vs. ultra clear visions of your abuser. both wait for you to fall asleep, take a lateral loss, long hair snaking soap water dull now darling suck sweeping honey careening eyelid suckling call me if you can if you can
in the basement again
The tacks were on the floor,
their primary colors
polka dotting the sole of my prepubescent foot
I'm pressing ice cubes
Hard as I can
down on my wrists
though he doesn’t seem to think
This is a safety plan.
a hissing frying pan
Too sensitive, he always said
White dancers’ tights, tear striped.
my nervous system
can be so violent
even silent noise sounds like a chainsaw
that white ticking murmur of knowing
this moment can exist in any year of your life
I can't stop thinking of the tacks.
They are in our bread
Those who have killed us.
Rachel Kass is a writer and kindergarten teacher in Connecticut. Her work can be found in Hotel #5, Bomb Magazine, Maudlin House and more. Say hello on Twitter or Instagram @rhamphoid.