"Stop Asking Me To Smile" - A Conversation with the Sky

last night the sky cried so I sat right beneath the leaking tapestry, wondering what could be such a sorrow for such a magnificent beast

“you have starry constellations like diamond accessories, with adults and children alike wishing upon them every night as if they hold within our trapped fantasies

“you stretch above for miles like a ballerina, with such ease and so full of grace as she daintily leaps over our cluttered maze trapping us underneath as we envy your liberty

“you’re the intangible answer to our bottomless pit of questions – labelled a home for divine entities, late loved ones, and old ladies spinning their wheel inside the moon – the single crack in the canvas to dribble in light on the darkest eve”

The sky leaned down to whisper, its breath warm and sticky like monsoon, the answer a whistle in the wind –

“you call me an inspiration, romanticize my stars gawk at constellations and yet, like a messy refrigerator door, cluttered with nonsensical information I'm just a convenient answer for your insoluble questions; when what I am really is clearly a projection of fears and desires, the thirst to foresee unknowable trials; heavily clouded by your expectations, you glorify me into what you need me to be – without your impositions, tonight, just like you hiding from those asking for a smile, preaching how it gets better, painting you stronger than you really are, beautifying your broken heart;

"tonight just like you, the sky just wants to be blue.”