Between the grids of glitter on a pitch-black slate,
Between the intermittent flickers of yellow, gold, and gray -
Somewhere,
Between and behind,
It feels like a dream.
It feels like a lie.
But I could push myself against the glass
And see every inch of endless blue tarp,
Breathe the palm grass,
Feel that white-hot splinter,
In like a whirlwind and out like a whisper,
I float with thoughts of not being human.
I didn't make this hell,
But still I walk through it.
If I could bury my body in the sand
And stare up at the clouds all my life,
I would.
But is to do no harm to do no good?
There were days of feeling happy
Before this pitch-black sky,
But it feels like a dream.
It feels like a lie.
