sometimes i think that the moon is mine
and that i am the the moon’s.
her craters wink at me,
a signal of secrets shared and kept.
i don’t think that i ever fell out of love with you.
falling-outs and re-kindlings
no love has turned my stomach so
stolen through my veins as steadily
burned quite as brightly
as the love i keep for you.
sometimes i eat
sometimes i eat until my body aches for an end
but the taste is always too satisfying to stop.
it's just the aftertaste
the lingering feeling in my stomach
that punishes me.
and so now
when you choose to find me again
i will not be found.
“we must hage the courage
to change the things we cannot accept
and to accept the things we cannot change”
but what if this thing
i cannot change
nor can i accept?
the thought of you,
lingering in the mezzaine of my thoughts,
makes my scars itch.
my throat thickens with layers of unshed tears
and once again
i find myself forgetting how to breathe through the pain of longing.