NEW HEARTS & COLD SEAS

Moon Pills

(A/N: sorry for the strange titles as of late, they mean more to me than they do to you.)

oh how the universe works
i wish i understood.
expectations, time never passing
i remember it vividly.
my mother told me,
"oh
you must
look at the moon.
through the
trees
and the kitchen window
I've never seen
something so
beautiful. "
but with wait;
suspension
(and expectations)
only had room to grow.
what could have been 30
felt like 3 minutes of my nose in a book
when this boiling anticipation sprung my feet to life.

a conscious sleepwalker
my state, described
the hum of the fridge
and how dark the cold outside seemed-
it took me.
to the window-
slow now, don't ruin it!
i found no moon.
only the reflection of kitchen lights
and muffled dull-watt street lamps.
is this how its supposed to be?
leaning-
taking-
yet no moon.
not to seem a fool,
this drive of anticipation pushed me forth
to the icy streets i took
steps in the dark, nearly lethal
(all in the hopes of a fabled moon-
one i heard only from white liars lips, in passing)

it was on frozen cement
below the dangling lights,
now nowhere near me,
that i saw her moon-
woven in expectation
and mothers tone,

the plain-white orb seemed surreal
and i felt nothing.

it was only then, through my moments wasted,
(thinking back i had looked to the stars first
when feet hit ice and bitter cold)
accents- against a wisp of mudded night
and i thought i knew what my mother felt.
this awe-
this need to tell-
my expectations had been on the moon
but i found the clouds
(hidden, away from sunny homes)
drew my attention best.