watching, waiting, sitting, craving

I painted my fingers orange

But it didn't change the way I saw them

I painted the sky red

But it didn't change the way it sat there

I painted the mirror white

But it didn't change the way it taunts me

The chill was shaking me

But it didn't change the way it felt to me

It didn't change a single thing

And maybe because it was always there

Always waiting to reappear

Breath caught in the breeze

The bees don't buzz above tall trees

Tornadoes come leaving things a muck

But they don't really notice much

It is all the same

Tornadoes come and ruin what I built

But I don't really notice much

It is all the same

Bursting through the clouds

Making joyful sounds

But underlying all is the feeling of the fall

The feeling of the chill

In my bones

In my ears

In my shoes

And in my hair

I want to leave it alone

But it grows and grows

Churches and people

Steeples and preachers

Where does the rain end

What was ever left to defend

I watched it wilt

I watched it brown

The song it sung was missing sound

I cleansed my soul

But my soul was based on grief

And it built on that

And it sleeps and sleeps

Jutting edges don't cut me so deep now

Sharp pieces dull in their sleep

I pictured my life here

And I watched it sleep too

I watched it bleach

I watched it set in the ground

Till it could not be pulled out

And still I sit waiting for it to reappear