You’re an inconsistent  lifeline that I’m constantly trying to hold on to,
An oil-soaked rope chafing against my sweaty hands.
It seems you’re only halfway here and never fully committed to being my light
But you’re here just enough to have my instant company if you want it.
I’m left with the insecurity that I’m too imperfect for your brilliance
But there’s nothing I can do and I’m kind of okay with that.
This is lyrical nonsense jumbled together in an incoherent format
But it makes me feel slightly better about myself, as I now realize that I need you to fill in the holes and crevices but I don’t need you to make the moon.