The sky has never painted a more perfect picture
than when it was darkened by the streams of tears it shed that day.
I shouldn’t be here today- my heart is somewhere else;
my intentions were of the right kind, but failure still spawned.
This bulletproof plan had the worst of luck
and was killed in the process of bravery.
But… the sky is crying for me; it’s killing my tears to shed its own.
So I’ll smile this broken smile as I bathe in this fabricated sorrow
and ask aloud, “How many tears will be shed on my behalf?”
I don’t want to wonder about it; the sky’s sorrow usually brings me joy.
But yet, I lay here, lifeless- so I open my mouth and sing
‘cause it’s all I can think to do at a time like this.
Anticipation will weigh these days down
as I wish for them to run through my life.
I’ll nervously try to remember each daily routine without you here
and use my homemade glue to hold myself together
so you won’t have any pieces to pick up when you come home.
“Only a little while more…” I constantly remind myself
“I’ll have you all to myself again. Your arms and ears will be mine.”
But that’s before I turn on the TV and see your face plastered on the screen-
I fall to pieces right there on the living room floor
and tell the sky to let me shed my own tears this time
because you are never coming home to pick me up again.
I guess not everything is meant to remain “unbroken.”