Be.

The morning that rolled
Of the hills to hang in the air
Like steam was so alive
And vibrantly
So unlike me, it was
Free.

Pulling out nails
To put them towards
Another purpose I fought
Half-heartedly, because
Nothing I do is ever
Enough.

If I could I would fall
Against the painted sky
And into the clouds
Where would I be if I did?
How can something so dark be
Beautiful?

Waves that are quiet
Are still as strong
As I never dared
To imagine I could
Ever try to
Be.