when it's dark and cloudy like this
it feels as though I am in between two layers of Earth
or in a collapsing room
the sky is a ceiling that is ill supported
a ceiling made out of ***** water leaking on the truck
a wet blanket on a fort from a broken childhood
made to hide from a father that doesn't love you
and if the soggy paper towel breaks
what will come crashing down through it?
the ground doesn't feel safe anymore
because the trees are the only thing separating the sky
from the Earth
and keeping us from being crushed
by whatever it is that's tormenting and oppressing
Atlas.