i am like a moth
willingly flying
into the light
only to be burned

maybe i am
willing to lose
my wings
because i
want to remember
how it was
to not be able
to fly,
back when i was
a flightless creature
who loved the moon

maybe i am still
not worthy
of wings

nothing
in this world
is reliable -
rain stops,
the sun hides,
stars die,
and the moon
cannot stay
in one place

so why did i
ever
decide
to rely
on you?