The feverish dreams
and the love of a life so messy
were never meant to be.
They dropped me
in a house full of strangers
and expected me to thrive,
to understand,
to adapt eagerly and not reluctantly.
When I look into the silver or the pond
all I see is the vessel of someone else,
I have always wished to crawl out
of this skin
because it is not mine
and I am fairly sure
that this isn’t fine,
they say that life is the only way,
they say that ribbons and pearls
and perfect curls
are all we have left once they lay
and yet the shadow of these bones
control the castle of the home
that never was.