lairyfights
booming, crashing,
shattering the sky
into pieces
shown to us as rain,
but the pieces are,
in truth,
parts of the sky
and clouds
and atmosphere.
Remaining forever
on bodies
and minds.
Stuck to skin.
Trapped inside.
Unforgiving, unmovable
unchangeable pasts.
Brought to life again
because of something so small or large.
Something that surrounds me
like a blanket at night
or the sky
on top of a mountain
going on for miles and miles
telling me to look as far as my eyes can see
and go wherever I want to go
showing me that anything is possible
as long as I can see it.