Fortress

I’ve been
waking up angry
from billowing sheets of cotton
and silk
and walls of alabaster brick
Feeling trapped in happiness
—Not mine
I’ve been dreaming
of parents and siblings and lovers
beneath ceilingless
covers
And me (trying not to stain my skirt),
always in corners
judging the height of smooth cream walls
I built for their necessity

“You,”
They (my sheltered) say
“you,”
and then “it”
till I’m a place
—a faceless source—
for being there.