I looked up to the sky, hoping,
hoping to see a sign of rain.
Rain to wash all the thorns that pierced,
pierced my torn heart.
I wished I was a cloud, drifting,
drifting past all the memories.
Memories I’d left behind, not wanting,
not wanting to tear myself,
myself so there’d be no more.
I glanced at my hands,
hands that were clenched into fists.
Fists that roared with anger,
anger that I was no better,
better than what I had intended,
intended to change from.
I didn’t want a mirror,
mirror the terror in my eyes.
Eyes that were red,
red from all the crying,
crying of my pain,
pain that I no longer owned,