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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.
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