You are 58 inches

of unbridled fury.

The chocolate stars

that you use to look up

at the people around you

are riddled with dry tears.

 

You are 58 inches

of breathless joy.

The chronic disease

that constricts your lungs

from the air around you

is confined by no cage.

 

You are 58 inches

of persistent pain.

The tiny hands

that you use to hold yourself

in the coldest of winters

are bound to break.

 

You are 58 inches

of cowardice

of lies

of uncertainty

of bravery

of truth

of confidence.

You are 58 inches

of no one but you.