You, my dear, are not the sun.
I will not label you as something
that I need in order to survive;

You are not here to make me grow;
I can build castles inside me on my own--
I do not need you in order to rise.

The moon has always been up there,
trying to watch over our lonely souls
and I hear its response through the night's soothing sighs.

And you are not the moon, no,
you do not deserve such a title.
You are not a star,

You are not as wonderful as the galaxies above
and you most definitely are not the universe,
composed of all things strange and lovely.

You, I repeat, are not the sun.
I will not grant you the permission
to help me live.

And I wish I had known that earlier.

There will come a time when the night air
won’t send chills down my spine
for it will no longer whisper your name.

I will stop telling stories about you,
for the moon has grew tired of hearing them
and weariness is an awful thing to feel.

The stars would appear
brighter than your eyes,
and I would hear lullabies again.

The winds would be warm,
the seas won’t crash waves,
and I will no longer drown.

Rigid, ugly, painful intervals of burning in the pores of my skin.
A rough sensation in my heart, I missed her more than I cared for my own life.
  At what point in time did my ancestors devolve me, when did my DNA first form this biological gap?

My instincts were supposed to protect me.

I thought
I knew you
so well -

like the
back
of my hand.
But every time

I look
at my hand,
there's a new

bruise,
a foreign
scratch,
a scar

I never had
before.
So the truth is,

I really
don't know
the back
of my hand

all that well.
So what does that say
for you?

When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Under a spotlight where everyone knew my name...
I was five.

Now, I want shadows and to be as far away as possible.
Hidden and far from consequence,
And even further from myself.
Where my name is not a name,
But just another word without any true meaning.

When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Now, I want to disappear.

I should have jumped overboard when I had the chance.