you wanted the universe,
so I started building the sky for you.
I hung up lights so when the dark arrived,
you had glimmers of hope
—one for every time you thought
it was living with you
instead of just visiting.
I once brightened your nights,
but you tore the stars down
because the sun was here to replace them.

I chased clouds away so you wouldn't
be caught in a downpour.
I became a shelter when they sought
their revenge and hit the ground running.
the wind was breaking me down,
but I held you despite the pieces it stole.
when the storm passed,
all you saw was the rainbow,
and didn't notice I took out the blue.

I did everything I could,
but I could not do everything.
you wanted the universe,
but I could only give you the world.