She jumped, but the air didn’t care,
and the clouds never reached down,
just sighed, and looked away. And she
tumbled, arms flailing, hair wound
across her motionless face. But
the ground didn’t care, so it never
flinched when she hit, or cried out in
sorry, or caught her less broken.
The ground ignored her fall, her splayed
limbs and all the cracks that bled invisible.
Time didn’t care that she was frozen,
so she became the fall. No one noticed.
been pushed around by darkness
for decades and for days,
nights go on for weeks,
stillness that sits like moss
on granite in the shade
days pass, slowly wait,
knowing no change, only
time dragging me to night
where waiting crashes and falls
and certain death takes me
every night, leaving a trembling
girl curled in the middle of the bed
to face more of what, that,
nothing, shattered windows and
boarded up doors, hope doesn’t
stop here anymore, shadows
chase, sharp numbness
overtakes, stripped bare
and broken by tidal waves.
Talking to the Clouds 