You've had the world turn against you.
In a heliocentric universe,
you'd think people would turn towards the sun
but instead you're doused in twilight.
As the one you love pours whiskey over the poems
you wrote for her.
As your friends shake your shoulders,
trying to wake you up
until they realize -

you can't dream anymore without thinking of her.

You could be a garden flower growing
on the forest floor
but instead you're trying to grow in her shadow.

But you are an artist,
a collector,
a lover,
a poet,
a person
and you cannot keep waiting in the shade for the sun to come.