by Susan Simonds

Susan was born in Connecticut and received her MFA in creative writing from Adelphi University. Her poetry has been published in The Fictional Cafe, Vines Leaves Literary Journal, Black Fox Literary Journal, and Three Line Poetry. She was a mentor with Girls Write Now in NYC for two years before moving to Nashville, where she enjoys her role as an office manager for a learning center.
The Score

My body knows the sum
total of quick-quick heartbeats
adrenaline too sick to fight
too heavy for flight
So long I lived in a house powered
by anxiety, my fears woke me
from dreams sweating
worried the wrong one
was sleeping next to me
Years later I still feel ample
hands pushing me down, enormous
feet punting my stomach
I still see the miniscule shadows of small rocks and
twigs on the pavement, eye level with me
I still hear the car approach, the woman screaming
Stop! You don’t do that to a woman!
and you don’t do that to a man, either
I remember thinking
as I opened my eyes to watch him run
she opened her passenger door to let me in
I decided against involving authorities
[I believed I should carry your reaction
on my back alone]
as I sat in the woman’s backseat
staring at her Victoria’s Secret bag
how I hated its Pepto pink
inviting me to vomit, empty
my stomach of this incident, but I didn’t
I let her take me in
and back to the party
And you went free to tell lies
and I went free to therapize
and even now a part of me dies when I think I’ve spotted you in the wild
Q Train

Every day I do not witness
outlines of your eyes engraved in the left side of my brain
I will present to myself
a silver medal on a silver string
When I gather enough
I’ll stack them in a box
walk to your door
dump them on your hardwood floor let them bury you
so I never have to picture you
again
Soft Cell

your favorite song was tainted
love, and wasn't it just?
once you ran to me
[once you accidentally kicked me
once you kicked me on purpose]
then I ran from you
and it wouldn’t be tears
would it
that I would take from you
[mine would flood the riverbanks
of my brain, feeding weeds of disesteem]
but vitriolic words spat like venom
at any mention of how I felt
when you took me time and again
[for a ride, for a fight]
without my consent