The skies are my companions,
our lungs are perfectly still
under the weeping clouds,
we don't breathe.
We are rancor-soaked
tattered eyes
(they seem old because
we lost the innocence
of our childhood in the scream of thunder).
Our future is a mirage,
I'm too dim to be defined as a star,
you cannot be a meteor
because your fire isn't potent.
But we are nothing short of brave,
we have our memories bound in scars
that can't possibly heal.
We bleed without being cut,
I will simmer down but
I am not a calm soul,
I blaze too loud sometimes,
I will scream until my lungs cave in.
I will run until my legs crumble.
I will search for the cloud
stable enough to carry my depth.
I will learn to stumble
across your terrain
under this relentless rain.
I will try to tell the sky that he is not alone.