Marker

Raindrops or is it teardrops falling down? I am drowning, memories fading of living in a house I called home.

Save me, find me tell me don't be afraid, that world is still waiting for me to come back. Hug me in your arms and say "it's over dear" shh it's over.

I had a dream that angels were flying, but their bodies weren't moving, and their eyes were closed. Their faces were either sad or scared, and I could see the pain through the wind and the waters. They're flying, aren't they? Or why does it seem like they're floating? And their wings—where are their wings? They’re angels, aren’t they?

I woke up with a marker on my hand, and as the hurricane approached, I wrote my dreams instead of my name.

'If I am to live again, I wanted to wake up in a world where storms are just a myth.'

I closed my eyes, like the angels I saw in my dream

and I fell asleep.

and I fell asleep hoping that unlike those angels, I can move my wings and open my eyes to see the world once again.