the "you" I must let go of
breaks the "me" I once knew.
I'm catapulting forward
and you're afraid of being left behind.
with the inability to reach a reconciliation
and hold on to what remained—
we grow our separate ways
despite the urge to turn back.

They warned me to watch for my hands because
I might cut them picking up the broken pieces of others.
They warned me to watch for my eyes because
after seeing their problems my sight would lose all it’s colours.

I believed good people were like candles
as they’d burn themselves out to give others light
I believed good people were like the dark of the night
as they'd be there to help the stars shine bright

My hands may be criss crossed with cuts and scars,
my eyesight dim, and in need of glasses
my body may be patched and riddled with burn marks
and I may have fallen into the depths of darkness

So often I believed that no one was there to help the helper

It was hard, and the map of 3rd degree burns and nicks
are a testament to my journey, my daily crucifix
But I think I’ve found the balance, the fine fine line
between madness and sanity. Between helping others and myself

I’ve learnt to shine brightly for others
like the moon, both light and dark
whilst not setting myself on fire
and still allowing others to shine stark

My eyes still see the wonder in the world,
my hands still craft joy, still tinker with happiness.
To you my friend, if you're anything like me,
know it's all worth it, and you will be helped, you will be found.

Or else I'll ****** the clouds.
And I'll do it at night, so the suns not there to witness.
The moon is too tired, so she'll just look away.
Not that she'd care.

Did you know she's evil?
The moon I mean.

She's calm, and dark, and seductive,
But it's all just a trap.

You know, she leads the sun to suicide every night.
And she watches.
Can't you see her over there, lying faint in the evening sky as he slowly fades off?

But he comes back every morning.
Unable to escape his torturous immortal fate.
So she just hides and plots her next attempt to lead the sun to his destruction yet again,

And maybe you to yours for the first time.

I wanted you to hurt me,
So I could ache in the way that you do.
Hurting was a way I could breathe,
Settle down and be myself again.
A constant in my life,
A craving...
Not even drugs held the same satisfaction as pain.