I live in a house
that never wanted me.
The house
and the woman
have been breathing together over this
for quite some time.
Chairs move as I begin to sit,
windows refuse to let the light in.
And the woman,
as little girl,
carefully strings yarn across the rooms.
Webbing this place over.
So that now,
I cannot walk upright
through a room.
My options become
to crawl
or to fly.