How can I?
The other day I watched clouds stride across the sky. For an hour the herd slowly dispersed until the field was it’s beautiful empty blue. They’re always the same. A cloud never forgets who they are. They remember everything. Every moment. Eternity. The soul of the world. No matter where they graze. No matter where they form. They cannot escape their essence. A cloud will always be.
Once, an angel whom I hate told me what my name is. Perhaps hate is a strong word. It’s the only one I can think of to describe my feelings for them though. There are stories about angels needing to keep their names hidden for fear of being controlled. It was cruel of them to tell me mine. There is no one I can trust with my name. No one that is just a friend. Friendship takes time, and not even forever is long enough. Silence scribed my name upon my soul. Marking me. Making it impossible to escape. I will always be, no matter where I go, or how I look, or when I am.