Ways of Living I

curled up in a ball saying it didn’t happen speaking in quiet tones to oneself & wishing that it will all go away--- night turns to day & back to night again, where those one might confide in otherwise, just don’t live up to the shoulder that they’re supposed to be--- left on one’s own, one forms a blockade & works on burying the memory so as to forget it ever happened, so as to make like one’s always been like one’s always been--- safe & sound & never ****ed with.