The blue skies are coming.
This has always been my mantra,
my calling card,
my peace in this crazy world.

I do believe that the blue skies are coming.
I do believe that I will once again sleep,
without waking,
and without screaming.

I do believe that I will once again
be able to walk down those streets
and not feel fear
at the thought of seeing him.

I do believe that I will be able to drink,
and not feel every person
that has ever bruised me
touch my skin.

I believe that the blue skies are coming.
I've been saying it since I was a child,
ruined by an eating disorder
and chronic depression.

I do believe that the blue skies are coming for me.
Depression stole my love.
Anorexia stole my childhood.
But, still, my blue skies will come.