forget it

Loud voices
sorry commotion

he kept telling me
HEY YOU HEY YOU

I KNOW WHAT IT IS TO BE INSIDE OF YOUR THIGHS. LET ME BREATHE INTO THEM. I WANT TO HEAR YOU MURMUR I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAM.

Terror
and where it gets you.

Fragmented or fragmentary,
the eggshell of comfort.

Sorry baby girl,
I'll ease into your mind
gently.
I'll let you know what
you feel,

as it is obvious
and it is mandatory

that you keep
quiet.

The voice will get nowhere
but deeper down into

your own
reflection.