The skies are blue, but I am too. I can only tell you half of those facts. If I tell you the whole of this hole in my soul, you may run away and that would be that. I am thin on the outside but inside I am fat. The stairs make me windier than Chicago City. But you’re the breeze and I breathe fresh air into me. I am scared; I’m excited. But I feel I’m already indicted for the crime of thinking I could have it all; that I would just show up and we both would fall. But there’s a wall - and it’s tall - and I crawl right toward it. I would run but my legs betray - they love to see me thwarted. Maybe one day I will get this sorted. But the days pass and they sigh, wondering why when they see me, I cry. And I try - to leave it behind. In a bind - constricted by my inner turmoil. I’m trying to grow in this soil, but this takes seasons to grow, and I’m needing to know - now, if this will blossom into what I need - somehow.