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.