under the sky
we write about
unfamiliarity and losing
the will to live.

quiet, like the careening clouds
who hold nothing but a skinned empty blue
and the recipes for failure.

i'd have walked my way
out of this place long ago
if it weren't for family and memories
and friends
and complacency
sitting like awkward numbers
in my mind.

below the yesterday i dreamed was mine
i emptied the bitterness over a shaft
of nothingness.
Let the sky swallow us,
let us sift in blue ink
and be nobodies
where our words crumble underneath
the weight of the world

because they forgot
how to believe in themselves.