My Silver Snake
By Michal Bracha
I undo the clasp and snake the chain along my skin
My chest feels exposed
An empty space over my heart
It sits coiled in my palm
Listening to my thoughts
As I pretend that I’m not cowering
That I’m just being smart
I clench my fingers around it’s smooth body
Which makes the snake hiss and bite
Searing hot silver fury
I don’t want to remove him
But he sulks at me despite
For three years he has hugged my throat
And in that time not once did he
Bite, hiss, or imprint
But I know that if I peered into my hand now
A magen david would be etched into my skin
Like a bloody painting on a white canvas
Everlasting, for everyone to see
Maybe it’ll match the once displayed on my forehead
I know there isn’t actually one there
But there might as well be
Once my close companion
My snake hates me now
Smells my fear like rotten eggs
Hears my thoughts like nails on a chalkboard
Sees the tears welling in my eyes
He thinks I’m weak
I think he’s right
He was a message to the world
That I was proud of who I am
But as I undo the clasp
And he slithers off my throat
Does that mean I’m ashamed?
Am I backing down without a fight? He’s right
I am weak
My snake is not a snake, but a necklace
With gold and silver strips intertwining to form a star
Magendavid, star of david, Jewish branding,
So many descriptions
“Accessory” may be accurate
But “Symbol” is my favorite by far
Smoothing my thumb
Over my chest’s empty space
Feeling skin where there used to be silver
As I rub at the layers
They seem to disintergrate
Until my heart is exposed
Beating like a drum
Will this shame haunt me forever?
I am shamed that I’m not there fighting
Shame that I’ve backed down, that I hide
Guilt that I’m safe in this cafe
Well am I safe?
I let my sister decide
With a hidden enemy
We can only detect them
Through snippets and passing comments
Through words that imply
Now my sister’s overheard a conversation
That’s given her...fear?
I’ve never seen her eyes grow so wide
I didn’t hear what they said, but her look was enough
I don’t think I want to know
It must’ve been scary stuff
She motions for me to do something she has NEVER asked of me before
To take off my Jewish necklace
I don’t need to ask her why for
She does the same with her own
And although my hands shake
I copy her subtlety
But I hear low, resentful hisses in my ear from the snake