No sunlight. No blue.
Just clouds: solid, unbreakable.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just shadows drenching faces
in their cold embraces.
Just clouds upon clouds
rolling off into that non-existent
sunset.

A morning.
Rising, gleaming, glowing.
Stretching and smiling and leaning.
And a cold bed,
untouched by the sun’s mockingly merry mirage.

Laughter that suffocates.
Tumbling over like a tidal wave,
all force and waves and nothing else.
And also silence, quiet, that chokes.
Just that one chance at freedom two steps away,
always leaping forwards and;
careful, behave
or you’ll be left in the cracking cold.

Cracks, cracks, cracks,
don’t step on them, whatever you do.
Just take a little leap over those little weed ridden
cracks
and try not to step on the heels of their shoes.