The Cannibal Above

A few nights ago, while everyone else in my life was lost in a dream or fully taken over by rapid eyes, I listened to the sounds of a sky in doubt. I'd lost sleep before but hardly ever because of anything outside my windows. Usually it was everything inside that kept me awake. The doubt crept in any time silence seemed to take me over onto the other side. It came as waterlogged tapping, some in time, most came randomly though, taking jabs at my windowpane. A strong breeze in disarray swept through my bedroom and left just as violently, throwing and scattering everything worse than ever. It threw my shades against the molding of their windows but there was never anything for me to catch to hold onto. The blue filter didn't even bother to come around yet to wake the birds and the birds, they normally acted as a distraction to everything else going on. They cut ties with me after a few mornings when I clogged my ears with cotton. I think it's selfish of them to be completely honest. Most of all though I think it was selfish of me to stay awake long enough to eavesdrop on a sky in it's most private of moments. It was the night I heard the sky begin to eat itself alive.