outside my window,
i see many things.
trees and grass, sure.
lots of houses and decks, naturally.
but those things don’t really matter.
they don’t quite mean anything.
instead, i like to watch the weather.
i watch how the people bundle up,
how we play and talk and eat,
how dogs’ tails wag and neighbors casually talk.
in the winter, snowmen litter our frozen yards,
kids try to climb the frail, bare trees,
adults in bundles and bundles of clothing struggle to reach the mailbox,
but i just like to watch it.
in the summer, giggling frames our background 24/7,
birds and bees tweet and buzz into distant nights,
the sweet song of the ice cream truck calls out to giddy children,
and i still like to watch it.
because that way, i don’t have to feel the bitter cold and melting heat.
i don’t have to feel the anxiety i do when i’m talking to people i’m so close to,
yet so far away from.
i don’t have to worry about who’s looking, judging when i slip on the ice or mud.
and most of all,
i don’t need to claim that responsibility, the responsibility of existing.
instead, i can simply imagine all is good and happy,
while i look outside my window