Small

How do I explain the limits
that a child places on themselves
when faced with a certainty of
violence?

I tried to survive by becoming small.

I didn’t share the backseat with my brother.
I cringed in the corner between the seat and the door.
I curled into a knot.
Tighter, smaller so I presented less of a target to him.

Smaller still, curling in on myself
not allowing a hair, a thought
or an expression
to ripple the air around me.

Drawing in still tighter
I collapsed until nothing escaped,
becoming a single point
without boundary, mass or being.

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