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.

Blue skies in Arizona
a ruthless sight to behold
akin to cool tides on an icy cold beach

Days of gray were my rays of sunshine
a heat box detox I dreamed of at one time

Now they seem transient
pallid, sad, and haphazard
since they’re a habit in Boston
no longer a reward to wait for

I hope somewhere it’s clear with clouds every now and again

you're made purely of lies
not looking me in the eyes
bringing back those cloudy skies
bringing out "our" demise

As I close my eyes I felt the summer's breeze
And it made my heart at ease;

I don't know where his mind is wondering now
Yet I can hear his heartbeat somehow
Making music in the air
As he stand near unaware
Of his smiles that brought delight
To this young Maiden's sight

Yet I know this emotions of love I'm feeling
Will never be conveyed to his unwavering heart
Because I can feel in the sight of his eyes
Endless mountains and skies

That one day fate will lead him to his destiny
And I'll remain nothing but a piece of his journey.

Heaven filled not only our eyes,
But also our hearts
With skies full of pink.
But what can I say?
She is pink skies herself;
Damp city with streets
Nothing but dashing cars,
Flashing street lights,
And occupied people.
Yet she is all I can see.