To the Sky We Cannot Touch

Dear you,

beneath the silver-spun clouds,

where blue skies once promised forever,

do you feel it too?

The weight of gilded days,

wrapped in the whispers of wealth,

like silk scarves pulled too tight.

I see us—

shimmering on the edge of a postcard dream,

country clubs and iced tea smiles,

where everything is manicured,

even the lies we tell ourselves.

But look up.

Do you see the trails they leave behind?

Wounds carved across an open sky,

a reminder that perfection is poisoned,

even when it sparkles.

I remember your laugh,

like the sunlight through lace curtains,

and how we danced barefoot

on lawns greener than our hope.

Did we ever wonder who kept them green?

Who cleaned the stains of our joy?

Maybe we didn’t care,

but now I can’t forget.

There’s a heaviness here—

a ghost that lingers in the scent of summer,

a crack in the porcelain of our smiles.

They said we had everything,

but no one told us how lonely everything could be.

I want to ask you:

if we could leave this painted paradise,

would you come with me?

We could trade pearls for sea foam,

diamonds for dew,

walk until the chemtrails fade

and the stars speak in truths

too raw for chandeliers.

But I’m afraid.

Afraid you’ve grown roots in this mirage,

that you love the golden cage

more than you ever loved me.

Do you dream of freedom,

or do you fear it—

like a bird who’s forgotten how to fly?

Still, I hope.

Hope that when you look up,

past the scars in the sky,

you’ll see the horizon I’m running to,

and maybe, just maybe,

you’ll meet me there.

Forever yours,

Under the same tarnished sky.