Small child, hiding behind a harsh cut fringe Fans her hand across the window Feeling the brightness dance underneath her tiny fingertips So watchful So fearful She stares hungrily within at the writhing figures incased, suspended in interaction
Laughter Anger Life
The window feels cold, yet she can sense the warmth within and it fills her aching bones with promise
The handprints fades from the window And the door tentatively opens up The girl breathes a last breath of fortitude and steps inside, opening her head and heart, displaying, placing within vulnerability, Hopeful Unstoppably hopeful That there'll be people who like what they see
*I just want them to like me
Wrote this a while ago, but it got lost in my draft section.