Window

I stare out the window

Not sure why I haven’t slept

In three days

I keep going over different scenarios in my head

Does this window open , how high up am I

Is there a mattress there to catch my fall or is that just a wish that I know won’t come true

Then I start to regret living on the second floor

It’s harder to escape .

I stare out my window  hoping my fairy godmother will appear

Then I can fly off into my never land and live with the rest of the lost black girls.

Maybe they stare out there windows to hoping they find some sort of escape to.