there is fear here
in the hunch of her shoulders
and the bruising of her cheek
high bone structure,
shadows filling in beside her nose,
chin small and pointed.
her shirt is too large,
she drowns in the folds
of this mammoth garment,
the sides stretch out when pulled
like wings waiting to come out
and play and show their full potential
but at the end of the day
she hides herself once again,
eyes so sleepless that they look sunken,
skin underneath appearing bruised
and tender like purple crescent moons
like testaments to too much activity.
low-fat skim-milk latte.
full-sleeves in winter.