survivor

-- a challenge. This makes me think more deeply about all that survivors of violence have to carry.

by Alicia Partnoy

I carry my rage like a dead fish,
limp and stinking in my arms.
I press it against my breast,
whisper to it,
people on the streets flee from me …
I don't know: is it the smell of death
that makes them flee
or is it the fear
that my body's warmth
might bring rage back to life?