again I wondered
what they saw...

how I don't
match.

the snowflakes in
my hair didn't
seem to melt and
my scarf dragged.

I felt strong
in these boots
but knew somehow
that I still
looked Weak.

But that
they didn't care
because the shades
of their own
worries stood
in their paths like
trees.

I ponder
why I keep fighting
other people's
giants.

I question
how it should
matter what
the outside
looks like

I conclude that
I do
because the
inside needs
so much ****
work that
it's a monumental
construction.

Like Noah's Ark.

Only there's no
way God is
going to ever
help me
with rounding up
that many
animals.