The moment is

incased

in shattered

glass

in your

head,



a memory

you wear

like cheap

clothing

torn and

a little bit

tattered

for all

to see.



it keeps

you a

prisoner

in your

day.



like the

sour taste

of a

spoiled

apple that

you can't get

out of

your mouth.



or a grapevine

broken from

your heart

that can't

find another

life to

take root..

within.



in moments

like these

I think about

you in

clouds

and send

you hope

and dreams

to look

forward to.



and cool

pillow thoughts

to lay your

head upon.



you are

not alone

look up.



in clouds



we are

there.