sometimes the moon looks so close i almost think i could reach my hand up and touch her. i wonder how she would feel against my fingertips, if she would crumble at my touch or if her beauty would make me crumble instead. sometimes she looks so small i want to hold her against the palm of my hand. other times, she looks like she could crush me just by looking at me.

sometimes i wish i could let go of all of this weight i carry and go live in the sky with the clouds. sometimes, i wish i could touch the stars that come out at night and feel them burn my fingertips. as if somehow that would make the darkness inside me feel a little bit brighter.

sometimes i wish i could feel sadness instead of the emptiness that surrounds me. i ask myself why i rarely feel anything at all, why happiness only comes in small doses. when it does, i can hardly recognize it. it is only when i look back that i think maybe... maybe i was happy then.