The Sky was always blue or gray, sun shining or storm brewing, never anything in between. At least not for me.
The birds were either singing or they weren’t.
I always did have trouble with the middle, I always did have trouble with the almost, the not yet, the half way, the not today. I only see the now or never, the all the way in or count me out. It feels like everything I’ve ever known roots itself on my shoulders like the whole universe waits there to grow and no matter how heavy it is, I’ll carry it forever. Because if I don’t carry it, that means it cannot ever touch me. I can’t see it or know it. I can’t feel it or hold it. I have to be blind to it. Maybe that’s a good thing. Because I can’t carry anymore. I have to be fight or flight. Out of sight, for the sake of my mind, but mostly for the sake of my heart. My poor heart, it never did learn the half-hearted way of doing anything. I don’t know how to be the person who loved someone once, a long time ago. I am whole heart, both feet in, all of my soul for all of my life. That is to say if you ever had my heart at all, I still carry yours every day. I don’t know how not to. Sometimes I wish I did. But I don’t make wishes anymore. I watch the Sky to know what kind of day it’s going to be. Blue or gray. Sun or storm. You never know when the sky will change and maybe I will too. I’m still waiting. And I know the color of the Sky doesn’t matter. It fell a long time ago and it’s the heaviest thing I’ve ever known. But my cup, it’s been empty ever since. The birds, their song was lost in the last big storm and my heart once held all the music. Now it doesn’t anymore. It just doesn’t anymore. I don’t have a reason, emptied out every rhyme I ever knew. What about you? Does your spirit still come alive regardless of the Sky and its colors?
I used to say, the Sky is always purple just before it falls. And it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the purple. It’s been a long time since I flew there or anywhere. When the sky fell, I did too. And ever since then the Sky has been only blue or gray. So now I just wait for the next storm to roll through. Maybe the birds will get their song back soon. Maybe we all will.