If only i had smiled differently,
worn a different skirt, a longer one,
if i had stayed quiet, let him win,
shrunk smaller, been easier to touch,
been harder to hurt, laughed when i wanted to cry,
cried when i wanted to scream.

I did not know kindness isn't always loud, 
not the grand gestures, not the 
throw-the-coat-over-a-puddle, 
because sometimes 
it is simply someone sitting on the ground 

You vacuum the carpet in the same direction, 
straight lines like ribs, hoping to be noticed, 
hoping someone sees proof of you, 
the ghost of your hands pressed into the fibers.