Kiley Brockway, Haunt Me Then, 2021
Digital photograph
skeleton key: named for the fact
the key has been reduced
to its essential parts
the pillow of their arm slit
by slash marks
as long as there is a bow, a narrow
shank or shaft, a flat extension
on one side near the bottom
new bright red lines
hatched over half-healed pink lines over
whitened scars
known for their intricate details,
not all skeleton keys are the same
the doctor asks them,
What are these? Who
is helping you with this?
we still cut and sell
skeleton keys our team
can help
another therapist tells me,
acupuncturists used to cut flesh
to let angry ghosts
out, we don’t do that here
you might be able
to use a common
household item to click
open the lock we don’t
recommend this
but it makes you wonder
about all these teens self
harming
skeleton keys symbolize access
to something
sometimes I think of that mother killer
whale carrying her dead
child–14 days, 1000 miles–I cried
when I first heard of her,
can work
with warded locks or levers
and now
mostly I think 14 days is nothing
at all, with a body
you no longer
have to try to save,
15 years, to love someone
so much, to fight for them
so fiercely, that you begin to hate
them—or yourself. Maybe both.
It is hard to tell.