When the walls falter,
crumbling within
                  realities windows,
                                  shattered inwards
by the tears that are dwindling emotions.

There is no place to smuggle,
        to hide within hollow walls.
Because when everything falls
                               were all exposed.
And everything is but a shell revelled.

there's a newspaper that gets delivered
when it rains it soaks & slithers on the front porch
melting into the cement
I never pick it up
I don't have an address
but it reminds me of Sunday morning
it used to cover a male face
there's a clearing of a throat and the sipping of black coffee
it's 2004 and the president is my father's favorite person
I'm used to living in tiny spaces
stir-crazy is reserved only for the *****-inducing extrovert
but as I turn on the light
the yellow glow reminds me of being inside an egg
I feel like I did in 8th grade when I was perpetually blushing
and all the girls in my classroom asked me why I was so nervous
I have flashes of a lemon tree
I was born nervous I tell them
the rest of the year is spent in silence

Not a sliver of glass
is broken around her.
Every inch and corner
has covered the mass.

Below her as she walks
the glass breaks and cracks.
Her feet bleed
and bleed through her socks.

Only people could see her
but she could not them.
She heard their laughs and words
and her emotions began to stir.

Why does she have to stay still
and watch every move she makes?
Why does she have to hurt
and have to yell and shrill?

She wants to breathe, not grouse.
So her feet can be free
and she can be alive
out of this glass house.