Belonging

She was a professional protagonist

Placed into uncomfortable settings

In tree-topped forests and

Sun-dried seas, vacant hills and

Unexplored bedrooms

It seemed almost possible

Fitting into these odd scenes

But as her story continued and

Each chapter she danced to something

New and uninviting

She still searched for a page

To blend into

And maybe by the end of her novel

She could have a less fictitious view

On the literary life she leads