Fragments of that Peaceful Window

In the window, I see my little self,
struggling with my pj's, discourteously outgrown,
sleeves restraining the blood in my arms,
squeezing until my toes go numb.

What dreams I had for a lack of nerves,
my heart pumping, but my head often light,
pressing into the thin, wispy air,
blinds shut tight, light blades sliding around,
in marching lines across my face,
as I imagine, even as I see a portrait of she before me.