the wall

when i talk about it
i make my voice flat
my face empties itself
and my eyes run
away

if i show any feeling
at all
it will look like lies

when i talk about it
i am very careful
not to dress it up
in any way

it is vital that the truth be all
and enough

when i talk about it
my mouth moves precisely
forms the words
clips and presents them
bare and blunt as bones

rage drunk fist knife rape

when i talk about it
i am a wall

this is no metaphor

what must not
at any cost
be seen
is the child

backed into a corner

kicking