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 fucked with.