Up.

the stars don't watch with judgement 
and the moon doesn't shine to tell you what to do
nobody's seen the clouds fussing
over who said what to who 
sometimes the only way to escape 
this dramatic social hullabaloo
is to look up 
up from the table 
at which you are bound by the strings of compassion
up 
from the screen that you feel trapped in 
up from the tissues and cough drop wrappers
look up at the sky
look up at the rafters
the walls of this house don't whisper with envy 
the soft sway of branches don't scream in a frenzy 
of first world issues, and problems so petty 
am I your friend or am I your enemy? 
it's never been clear 
though I want to be friendly 
I'm lost in this world of teen drama and distractions 
somebody please
give me directions 
all I can do is look up 
up at the sky that could be the sea
tempted to make the next line
"I wish you could be here with me"
but I just look up
up at the ceiling that traps me 
but traps me safely 
up at the atmosphere being created
up at the clouds
and up at the constellations
now I worry I'll fall over my own feet
but I keep looking up
the feeling of freedom is worth the scraped knees