With arms like these, looking up at the sky is painful.
When looking up, the stars shine out and sparkle with pure perfection.
Looking down pushes your mind and body back into reality.
Colors of heat and madness are slashed through unnatural skin, torn and sewn back together.
All the while, the sky welcomes with colors of deep love and soothing tones.
If only I could fly away, into the darkness, I would.
Maybe there's a proper home and happiness for me there.
I definitely don't belong down here.
And so I look up, wishing myself away.
A white streak forms across the sky.
Maybe the sky is sad too.
I wonder if it scars.
