New Life

Hermit crab human scuttling about In my new life. Ill fitting suit. Like wearing your mother's clothes - Clip clopping around the kitchen... High heals filled with little feet... And dreams of an old lady and her children. Have I wandered too far into the fiction section. My old life discarded on the floor It no longer fits. Too tight. Constricting now. Still warm with memories as I nudge it with my toe. Now there's room to grow - rather baggy if truth be told. I twist and turn in front of the mirror. Trying to imagine a time this feels like home.