Sun 🌻

The poet, who prefers to stay anonymous, writes about a teenager who stays in her room all the time, isolated because of her battles with social anxiety. She is blinded by the sun, but is unable to feel the warmth it is supposed to provide.

 

Just like every morning the sun gleamed through my open window,

its glimmering, golden rays curve past my parted curtains,

gracefully, like a dancer, 

through the curtains that part me from my teenage angst.

Just like every morning, the sun blinded my tender waking eyes,

achromatizing the vivid colours of my childhood bedroom into an unsettling white,

and although the light rendered me unsighted, 

it doesn’t warm my skin.

Just like every morning the sunflowers at my window sill turned their heads,

as I turn mine from my dreams and aspirations,

afraid to make them come true, 

because if I ever try to, 

the sly,sneaky fox that lives within me awakes,

Just like every morning, when the sun gleams through my open window

-N

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