we have been one long enough for a child, to grow from cell to a being. we have a child, of sorts, one of soft words and confused memories. of flowers, and of light. I pray we will be one, longer, long enough, to raise it.
its hard, but i swear we are making it through it.
For me to live I must scream to the sky About what you have done to me. The sky is a good listener. She is kind to me when you are not. I cannot be kind to you, But if you must, Talk to her. I promise she is a good listener.
about a kid who doesn't realize that I only tell them what others do. I am the middleman, but everyone else is a coward. they are being lied to, but I have been asked not to say names. I dislike them and so do many others, but when I tell them this, they do not listen. they sky listens to me. they do not.