Are any of these women real?

My step mom opens the top drawer
In the guest room
Takes out the cut bracelet
And asks,
Can I please throw this out?
It reads Fall Risk
Which is what I am
Yellowed and frayed
At the ends

The boxes of books dance with
the lids closed.
It's not too cold
But it's raining
I have one friend and
She's praying
There are two dogs and
They're saying
Please get out of bed
We both believe that you can
Walk again

Fast forward and I get lost
In the big rows, poetry lanes
while I shake and crave
through the outrages
I learn to come back down
I learn to give and go

It says Fall Risk
Inside, they told me I'm not bad
I'm just sick
It's tricky,       whether
I know it all     or
have no clue
it exists
I'm a fall risk.