I look
Out the window
Goes
My dream
Was to be whatever
I wanted to be
A bird
Could fly back
Inside
The house
Let the heat out
The window
Closed me
Outside
The house
Was my haven
Being so
Unwelcoming
The dead worms
I held in my hands
The snow
Reflected
In the glass
I saw my reflection
In the window
I saw
An ugly thing
Crept up
Behind me
Was a hole in
The ground
Opened and swallowed
That ugly thing
Stayed in
My mind
Would not believe this is how
Dreams are made
Of
Hope and effort
Pay off
Is due to those
Who played
My heart
Is breaking
China
A habit or
An accident
Happened to
A bird
Flew into
The window
Closed me
Outside
The house
I wondered about dreams being made
Is this really how
I look?