17th January 2019 - Flying

I see faces in clouds - vivid as a distant memory. 

People I knew and those I wish I did. 

I didn’t realise I was crying until my nose started running.

Fading faster than I can register. 

More blue than my hair at 15,

Higher than the boy that hurt me.

Clouds form Mountains and mole hills - we can climb them all.

The afternoon sun hits your skin and

I see a horizon of possibility. 

Unspoken secrets and hidden promises -

I’m sorry I’m not so good at talking out loud.