20 lifetimes ago, I have fathomed myself into being
That girl who knew not that the world
Would come upside down
When you hang onto it.
I have suppressed my fear then of emerging triumphant,
Suppressed it so much that my clothes have wrinkled
Like the dead flower I use for a bookmark
Or as a reminder of the day I had the power
To kill a flower to keep its beauty-
It did not last a day.
My abs have shrunk
Into a paper ball that they tossed
But missed the bin by inches
So here I am, at the corner of the room, crumpled and
Ready to be picked up by the ants,
When I began to cry, when I began to tear up and tear down
Into wet sticky pulp
I stuck to the walls and when I fell asleep, my tears dried up.
I fell back on the floor,
Just outside the closed door.
All I had was the millimeters of freedom
Between the floor and the base of the hard wooden door of my classroom.
A little wind, and I would be free
To fly with the autumn leaves and the spring butterflies.
All I do now,
Is wait for the wind
To take me with.