sprawled out, crawling against my pallid skin

the edges twined out like

delicate barbed-wire sketches

and written between the angles

were tiny letters,

not that I could ever focus

the second later when I'm

pressed up against the bathroom wall

pretending it never happened,

and the day after when I'm tugging the seams

of striped long sleeves and

loving my convenient blue jeans

because everyone needs to hide

-something-

and I just wish I didn't have to hide it

from you.