Jesse Rice-Evans is a neuroqueer Southern poet studying somatic chronic pain writing and femme internet relationships. Read her work in The Wanderer, Peach Mag, Bad Pony, and Rag Queen Periodical, among others, and in her forthcoming debut collection, The Uninhabitable (2019), from Sibling Rivalry Press. Find her Tweeting from her couch covered in heating pads (@riceevans).




Previously in Glass: A Journal of Poetry: Cyclobenzaprine


Jesse Rice-Evans

[ Wild Interlude ]

revenge is better than forgiveness. why forgive when you could drag, become a thorn, growing to burn or heave. The day I tell my therapist about my rapes, it is raining. I am wearing a hoodie and more eyeliner than usual; when she asks why I seem upset, I dissociate and tell her a story about something I try hard to never think about. I’ve got issues, I probably say. I don’t remember, I made a mistake, I have never told anyone, I don’t remember, looking for evidence of my own pain, how memory yanks me back into the basement, windowless, concrete floor, not wanting to be alone in the house. I don’t have much to say besides I can’t breathe. I don’t talk about it.

I stare at the Matisse print on the wall across from the couch where I pull two pillows into my chest.

The wild things I've been are shredding me like defeat doesn't slip past me




Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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