Opened Window

I just found this — it was written by me in 1997. Wow.

Palms pressed against my window pane,
Its glass is cold upon my touch.
Trepidation fuels my fears again,
The building pressure seems too much.

The walls within begin their motion
Buckling ‘gainst my strong devotion
To guard my deepest, feared emotions —
Security, Love and Trust.

Fingers wrap ’round the windowsill
White-knuckled, standing very still
I push and prod and yank until
The air inside begins to fill —

A warm and welcomed rush.


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