Fragments of a Cloud

She looked and saw the sky scarred with clouds. She was leaving home in an effort to find it. Wheels couldn't take her there. Only footsteps could negotiate the path she had in her head. Of leaving without being gone. Touch without skin. Truth without exception.

She didn't want to die. Not then. But she did want to die. Some time soon. Under a sky as dark and as bright as this one.

As shattered as her.

Or at least pretending to be.

Until the next storm.

She thought as she examined every crack in the clouds, someday my secret will be told by the the thickest branch on the nearest tree.

Someday I will make myself small enough to spill through those holes that are always there in the sky when I look up.