A Broken Cutting Board

Her throat hurls in-cohesive howls.
She embodies death metal music: Rose
red cheeks dripping cold sweat like
a scene of a movie. She screams like
jackrabbits fight. Her memory stems,
feeding her body poisonous mushrooms.
She froths from the mouth and makes
thunder with her fists. The cutting board
snaps loud. Like a glass plate against
a wall.


Those thoughts are a parasite, making her
soul into their snack. She chants "He's here,"
in a hollow voice. The handcuffs a python
tightening for the kill. A siren song is the
backdrop as she resists, resists, resists.
Bury her memories with pills like you
bury an enemy in the ground. She
can never forget.

Her skin is acupunctured with doubts.
Her breath is stolen with the perpetrator at large.
Her hands are filled with electricity.
Her mind a movie theatre playing her own flashbacks.
Her sweat is a letter with no return address.
Her ribs are thin ice on a well-used lake.
Her eyes are a flood destroying her own family.
Her body is a ruin where no one visits.