My mind is a sky that forgets the sun,

gray-washed and heavy, nowhere to run.

Thoughts drift like storms I cannot tame,

each one whispering doubt, each one a name.

The air feels thick, too tight to breathe,

like something unseen coils underneath.

No lightning strikes, no thunder cries—

just silence wrapped in unsettled skies.

I try to smile, pretend I’m clear,

but the forecast lingers, always near.

Cloudy again, no reason why—

just weather inside I can’t deny.

But maybe tomorrow, the winds will shift,

and the weight will lift, if only a bit.

’Til then I’ll walk through the haze I know,

holding out hope for a break in the glow.