Untitled 01
And above the clouds there is no rain
And behind the mirror there is only cardboard
Holding together the reflection of what you think you see
As perception alters your precipitation
Clouded judgement only knowing conditions of rain, hail, or snow
The likelihood weighed by chance
and there it is, down it comes in the purest form
And there you are,
sunbathing your wounds
Waiting for the rain again
Small bits of you wither, escaping the thick atmosphere that surrounds you, flesh ripped away from itself, floating back to its home
Minutes turning to hours & finally collapsing into days
Crashing in from this high, engulfed by the darkness of extinguished flames
Waiting again as minutes turn to hours hoping they collapse into days
praying with eyes welled in fear, days form weeks
But it begins again, as no rain falls above the clouds because everything must come back
Copyright © rated c. | Year Posted 2024
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