by Briana Atkins
I like the way the clouds cry
Silver tinted tear drops that we call rain
Heavy sob downpours and sun shower temper tantrums.
I like the way the clouds fall apart
And thunderstorm their way through the day
And strike lightning on the telephone poles that remind them of bad memories
I like the way that clouds don’t pretend to have it together all the time
Every day can’t be sunshine and rainbows
Some days it’s dark skies and misty morning commutes
I like the way that clouds remind me of who I used to be
And who I am today,
But mostly I just like the clouds, because they’re the only ones who understand me.
Huge tears fall from their eyes and puddle at the ground
And we trudge through them with our cars
Our feet
Our ignorance- for their sadness
We want brightness and light all the time
We want warmth and sun
A permanent smile
