I am buried beneath the fear of my own failure.

I gaze at the bird sing as she is falling.

I tell you my secrets, though I do not know what they are, only that they are veiled behind my shame.

I want the wall to move, but I dare not touch it.

The door is far too wide, and the mess behind it far too thick.

I cannot recognize my own hands anymore, the rough texture startles me.

I hold myself, bringing my knees to my chest.

I remember what it was like when I’d rest my head on your breast.

You would softly whisper that this is only a season, this too will go away.

That this is not our forever home, but Earth is our temporary stay.