I imagine myself
in a house without
windows

I grow there,
stilted, like a
flower denied
of rain and
sunlight

I am always
cold, covered
in thin hairs that
rise like flames
when a whisper
reaches the back
of my neck

I am always
scared, rivers of
fear flowing like
blood through
my veins

I am always
hungry, remembering
the taste of fresh bread
in the morning

It has been a long time
since I ate