There is someone at the window, trying to get out
desperately determined
famine and drought
Drawn in by a promise of warmth and light
cosy and comforting
tired from the flight
Lost in the darkened stale air abounds
lured in by the wanting
trapped by the found
Butterfly
chaos and frights
shadow comes along
too tired for the fight
There’s someone at the window trying to get out
caught in fragile chains
A guest in spiders house
Having Anorexia was like being a butterfly caught in a spiders web, my fragile wings tearing with each attempt to break free. Finally I managed to fly away.
