All alone in the crowd
I hate the way
my past chases me around,
snaking her way up my legs,
wounding herself around my arms,
wrapping her heavy body
all around my shoulders.
I hate the way
she slumbers in my mind
(she doesn’t snore, you may think she’s peaceful)
so lightly,
I have to tiptoe around her.
and (most of all)
I hate the way
she grows
and grows
and grows,
till she’s a dark chamber
in a forbidden pool of light,
and I’m the only one in it.