The paper sun
Peeks it rays
Between the blinds,
And I reluctantly
Lift my chiffon eyelids.
As I stretch
My fragile arms,
I think,
“This will be the day,
The day I grow stronger,
The day I dig my roots deeper,
And stand stronger.”
I lift my gossamer body
Out of bed,
But I struggle to balance
On my diaphanous feet.
I stumble to the window,
And open the blinds
To see the houses made of
Newspaper and cobwebs
As delicate as I.
They shutter in the wind,
And leaves float past the glass.
I creep back into bed,
Under the covers,
And think,
“Not today.”