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When I was younger,

I would play games with my friends.

We would look at the clouds in the sky,

And tell each other what shapes they make.

Often, it was childish thoughts,

Bunnies, puppies, lollies, love hearts.

We would giggle and wonder,

If the clouds would be the same in a few years.

Here I am, outside this day,

Typing this, looking at the sky.

The sky is blue, a dull blue,

One I see every day.

There are clouds up there,

White and puffy.

At the moment, I'm looking for shapes,

Pictures of things in them.

I see a knife,

Sharp and deadly.

I see a match,

Hot and burning.

I see a rope,

Long and tight.

I see a teardrop,

And with it, comes a real one from my eye.

I cant see any bunnies, or hearts,

I cant even see a happy thing.

I see all the bad memories,

Thoughts coming to life and controlling me.

My fingers are numb as I am typing this,

My head is thinking suicidal thoughts.

I'm tempted, I wont lie,

But I cant, I know.

The clouds are no longer a children's game,

To me, they are now just another reminder.

A reminder of who I am.....

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