I try to grow wild flowers,
in the empty spots of my chest.
The sunshine tricking my eyes
into planting seeds,
beneath clouds that have
darkened around the edge.
A hope starts to bud,
as the light breaks enough through
to sprout dreams inside my head.
And just as roots settle into place,
the loneliness cracks across my skies,
and I break.
My weathering heart opening at the seams;
I'm a storm, ready to rage.