Paper Sky


The sky is the color of dirty paper —
it is the color of
yesterday’s news
dropped in a puddle, clinging
to the cold dead ground

It is the color of
cheap ink
running off the newsprint and bleeding
into the rain (the sky is crying)

It is the color of
Choking grey to fill a world
too real


She holds her pen like a syringe
ready to inject the ink
into her veins
so that when her eyes
and her vision goes
she can breathe in a world
of beautiful words
and stories
can fill her soul