Between the Clouds

In the air of the putrid morning
the smog crouches
behind the sky scrapers,
waiting to strike.
The early traffic is unaware,
eyes glazed, sucking starbucks
from their green straws.
Inside the walls of their cars they feel safe.
The smog eats exhaust.
I look down and soon all is white.
Above me, the marshmallows roll.
I reach out to taste it and imagine
the sticky sweetness on my tongue,
but it is too far away.
I feel safe like the people in their cars.

Fear

Fear stung me,
paralyzing what was left.
 Feet burning
on fire that you started,
blisters bubbling in defeat.
 Failure,
what I didn't mean to open,
like a box with pretty wrapping,
 you are the bow,
 tempting me to fondle you.
Tell me how I can stay,
rolling in the mud without a care.
This is easy,
but fighting you is hard.
You're in my mind,
speaking to the dark within me.
Drug dealing your way back in,
you come back at me with fire again.
I don't want anymore scars.