Keep on Falling

Yesterday I sat there, hoping against hope
that the grey sky wouldn't shed
its tears on the browning grass;

that it might turn blue and white again,
turn black without letting any rain fall
as I have been falling for so long—

and haven't had the chance
to evaporate.

Tonight, that wish almost came true—
if I had only seen you while I was wearing blue
when I saw you underground, bright
as you have always been.

I have changed. I just changed.

And I didn't know what to do
so I took your lead and just ran—

up the stairs, through the doors,
hands shaking, not knowing where to look,
only to find fingers on the keyboard again.

And I keep on falling.