The night wind
embraces and soothes
my mind as I
share my day with
the stars and moon.
The dark digests,
my mind,
as he dissolves
our souls,
into one
constellation, forever
engrained in,
the cosmos.

Dear brain,
Can you stop telling me
All the things I've done wrong?
I know I'm not perfect

Can you instead
Tell me all the things
I've done right?
I could use some positivity

Thank you,
Me

do you ever think that
maybe the sun gets tired
that maybe she just needs
one night to herself
just one night to sleep
one day off to let
her fiery hair down
to find an ocean
big enough to swim through
a river wide enough
to float down

do you think she minds
that we write so many
poems to the moon
that we marvel
in awe and wonder
mesmerized by the moons light
forgetting even at night
its her light
lighting our way

do you ever wonder
what it must be like
to always be rising
to always be out
to always be hanging
somewhere in the sky
to always feel the fires burning

to never know the joy
of a cool breeze
to never find shelter from the heat
in the shade of a great oak tree
to never have your hands
go numb from playing in the snow

what must it be like to be the sun
do you ever stop to think
how tired she must be
to always be burning
burning so bright
all that light
all that warmth
keeping this earth alive

do you think she minds
all the poems we write to the moon
that we stay up so late
sleep in so often
and treat doing so as a luxury
that we relish the time
she is absent from the sky
do you think she minds

There's life in this pen beyond what someone will read

They only see the pretty, cleaned up, typed out version of my thoughts

This is the battlefield where they go to war

This paper will take the hits, absorb the impacts, and survive

Your mind might not
Our friendship might not

But my hand will keep dancing across the pages