It's hard to say what I want to when the moon overshadows me like a great looming giant while she dances brightly for you.
We're out of sync.
And I'm scared.
I've been stared down like this before.
I've seen this shadow through the cracks of my pavement and comforters on my bed.
I've worn her in oversized sweatshirts and big blue vests.
She terrifies me.
I love you, my epiphany.
For the first time I mean it.
And for the first time, I cry.
Because my uncertainty lies within her warmth.
The almighty and inevitable unknown.
Her claws embed my thoughts with vague and misinterpreted memories.
And I'm clueless in what she'll do.
I miss you, my epiphany.
But I'm confused.
Our words are like a maze, with each phrase I write novels of joy and in each punctuation I write letters of goodbye.
In every word you say I feel your warmth but in our absence I am a desolate chamber of rest.
You make me happy, my epiphany.
I've never been more true than when we write our story together.
Every paragraph I learn to love you with every ounce of my being.
You intensify me and the more I learn comfort, the more fragile I become.
Please, my epiphany.
Don't break me.
When our sun shines at intervals and our stars cannot align,
Please, my epiphany.
I put my trust in us,
I am flowing down this river blindly,
So if you must,
Please, my epiphany,
Break my gently.
And sometimes it's hard to say what I want to when the sun dances brightly for me but overshadows you like a great looming giant.
But there are days we're in sync.
And more often than not, there are days of hope.
YOU ARE READING
The Truth Embarks a New Beginning
PoetryWhen you feel like there's no way out, life laughs and toys with your pain. But, when pain is built on top of pain, the doors of mockery close, and you can walk out into the world, with a newfound understanding and acceptance of what shit you have o...
