Sometimes

I was late to calculus because I was looking at the sky.

The clouds kept telling me to stay,

telling me they had more to show me

but I kept walking.

So maybe my soul's all right

but my body's all wrong.

Maybe my headaches keep me grounded.

Maybe they are all the words I could never say.

Maybe they are my insecurities or my failures,

pounding against my skull,

tired of being ignored.

Maybe I'm beautiful inside and maybe I know it inside.

Maybe God didn't like the look of my face when he saw it.

Sometimes I don't feel like myself.

Sometimes I feel okay.

Sometimes the clouds and the sky are putting on a show just for me

Sometimes.