Our unpolluted eyes have always seen through the rosy fog of this utopia.
I’ve had this recurring dream of a burning sky since I was 10 years old.
Still I hold onto nightmares colonized into beauty for a vanishing dose of fulfillment.
I mistook this fire for beauty gifted to us
But you remind me, what we’ve done
We stoke the fire with desire to breathe in destruction.
All while yearning to see beauty in the sky. I guess hurting loved ones is hard to take in.
Our unpolluted eyes are polluted but we tell ourselves they aren’t to make the truth easier to sleep with.