Collective Unrest

 

muscle memory

November 15, 2018

TW for sexual assault

 

I carry my trauma between
my thighs, at times

I’m tense because I’m afraid
he can taste it

when he’s inside me
I lie face down on the mattress

if you bury a scream deep enough
in polyester and feather

it can be mistaken for pleasure

 

Rebecca Kokitus is a poet residing in the Philadelphia area. She is a student at West Chester University of Pennsylvania, where she studies English with a concentration in Writing. Her work has been published and is forthcoming in over a dozen literary journals. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram and @rxbxcca_anna, and you can read more of her writing on her website: https://rebeccakokitus.wixsite.com/rebeccakokitus. 

Please follow and like us:
error
Newer Post

echo

After the wonder that is Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”   I have seen the best minds of my generation rotting, stowing away in apartments and alleyways searching for something to fill the abysses and gaps and voids and holes boring through…
Read
Older Post

How A Bridge Is Built

Click the link below to read Brennan DeFrisco's incredible poem, "How A Bridge Is Built." How A Bridge Is Built by Brennan DeFrisco     Brennan DeFrisco is a poet, spoken word artist & educator from the San Francisco Bay Area.…
Read
Random Post

Pink Star

Dear Shaj Guess what? I am number one in English. Ok. So I am not really number one. But I am almost number one. I came number 12 in the exam. Are you proud of me? I know you are…
Read
Random Post

Rosemary’s Lobotomy

After Rosemary Kennedy “Darling Daddy, I hate to disappoint you in any way. Come to see me very soon. I get very lonesome every day.” Engulfed in tulle, like a sprig of herb in a wedding bouquet, she curtsied. A…
Read
Random Post

Obituary for the Mundane

I am searching for a way to die that does not make use of fire or water That does not make headline of my country ablaze or my children in sinking boats My people's blood is famous for its quiet…
Read
Random Post

Flying Home From Indiana After Driving Past the KKK House in Irvington

I want to tell you it’s comforting to cry your eyes out on an airplane because the jet turbines to your left and the raindrops beating against the window make your tears sound faraway, but I feel like a birthday…
Read