No Longer The Moon: A collection of writings from the month of October

I wrote this at 3am

I've mastered the art of beginnings:

I've come to love the rush of something new.

I cling to the fresh words, untouched skin, the sky a different shade of blue.

I live only in the moment, not thinking.

Everything is beautiful because there's nothing to be missing.

I am terrible at endings:

I never know how to say goodbye.

I see everything tinted black; the lies, their eyes, the sky.

I keep looking back, not able to move on.

Everything is dreadful because everything we had is gone.