I feel Fragile.
Like a speck of dust perched upon a windowsill.
Only time can tell where it will
End up.
Like a glass whimpering on the
Edge of the counter,
Waiting to be shattered.
Like a small child curled
In the closet behind the dresses
Holding their breath in fear their mother will
Find them.
Like a thin twig on the ground anticipating
That step that will snap it in two.
That’s how
Fragile.
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