It’s a yellow summer morning;
as I open my diary.
And on this grey cloudy night;
I read about a girl I used to be.
I read about the high swings.
I read about the delicious cakes.
I read about frequent crimson smiles.
And I read of retrospective mistakes.
I read of the dreams I chased.
I read of the flowers that died.
And then I look into the mirror,
I look at a death I couldn’t hide.
I close the embellished diary,
to escape my own sympathy.
And I look at the understanding sky,
that I always wanted to be.
I’ve become the sky I tell myself,
“You’re what everyone wants you to be…”
“You’re the one that strikes lightning…”
“You’re an oasis’ canopy…”
I am that vast expanse who listens.
I am the thunder and rain as I cry.
And when I am feeling down and out,
behind those fat grey clouds I hide.
I think of the happier times; he held me close,
And I turned into coy twilight.
And when I see these stars tonight;
I see the tears of a wounded sky.