The Sky Is A Waiting, Wailing Woman

The sky told me that she’d make something of me one day,
sending me sweet rays, so I could grow strong.
She would nurture me, despite my nature telling me to turn away.
She would follow me round and round,
no matter which way I faced,
and confronted with this unconditional love,
I had no choice but to constantly disappoint her.

I would samba with Satan as the stars spied and reported back,
her tears were torrential, but her affection unwavering,
she stayed, like a sentimental old fool,
sending me snow to soothe the toasted flesh that Satan left behind on a blinded girl, who just wanted to live dangerously and without affection,
for the thrill and the attention.
She watched me stay inside, behind glass,
hiding from her humble hopes that I’d make good choices,
and she always stayed,
dropping rainbows at my door,
no matter how many times I rejected them.

As I write to you,
she waits with a wry smile,
her heart aches but she holds it all in,
never letting me see the mess I have made,
never telling me to change,
just offering her blessings at my door,
and waiting for me to want more for myself.

I don’t want to disappoint myself.

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