what the water gave me - h.s.

you've got my devotion

October.

I always found myself devoted to the moon.

Maybe it's due to the fact that I see so much of myself in her.

She hangs in the sky in silence, but her existence is never gone unnoticed. Her shine like no other, so pure and untainted, just a subtle glow among a sea of beautiful black.

No matter if the world is burning down around her or not, she still continues to flourish. She still gleams hope into discouraged eyes, lighting the path in her light to find what you're looking for, to find yourself.

She provokes luminescence in dark nights like my soul ignites every room I enter into. The way she rises every night in pride and consistency is something I strive to be in my own normal.

Her normal, so routine but ever changing, excites a passion in the people below her, in the ones admiring her delicate face every time the sun goes down.

I know comparing yourself to the moon might seem cliché, but when she falls so do I, and when she rises again I pick myself back up to follow her into her graceful purpose.

Like how she exists so freely while simultaneously inspiring others. I wish to be her.

Even incomplete, she is still so utterly breathtaking and magnificent.

I devote myself to her, not only because she brings upon a moment of peace through every phase she encompasses that night, but because when she does she makes damn sure her presence is felt.

I want my presence to be felt.

I want my existence to matter to someone so deeply.

I want someone to be afraid of losing me.

Perhaps she sees me trying. Perhaps she is watching my every move in hopes I am on the right path to being true in myself.

Perhaps she sees me staring up at her right now in the early morning, waiting for the sun to come up and shine down upon the world, drinking tea to start off my day. Maybe she sees me staring up at her, lost in my thoughts of a curly haired, green eyed boy and a voice unbeknownst to me taking refuge in my head.

I hope she knows I'm trying my best.

Salem walks up next to me, nudging his soft little head into my leg as I reach my hand down to pet him.

"I hope you had a better sleep than me, Sa." I sigh.

I spent all night long looking through my Aunt's grimoire trying to find more information on this whole Chant de Flamme stuff.

Didn't find much else besides a page that's been ripped out.

I heard Johnsy leave not too long ago to her job interview at the design firm, which surprised me that she was also up so early.

I've been a little careless lately with my craft, which worries me that Jo might find out before I can tell her.

She doesn't know, partially because she's a bit oblivious to things around her, but she's not one to like being lied to.

In reality, no one really is.

Salem purrs in his spot by my feet while I sit on my balcony in my room.

I waste time doing mundane things like watering my plants, cleaning up around the house until I have nothing left to do.

Instead of wasting the morning away in my apartment, I decide to go down and walk Bourbon Street, hoping that the public might entertain me more than my room.