And in the silence between the songs in my head
and the words that I left unsaid,
I am unsure about whether I'm sad about the person I once was,
or the person I have yet to become.

I was a vagabond,
in desperate need of stable standing
and you were the sun,
brilliantly destructive,
but essential.

Within my fevered limbs,
and trembling hands,
you will find my universe.
The universe I built out of
secondhand smoke,
messy poetry written to sad songs,
and you.

Somedays, I wonder if my world stopped revolving
in the absence of you, my dear.
Because in my need to save my pride and
to hold onto the little dignity I had left,
I left you slip through my fingers.

You shined with a brilliance unknown to me.
And just like the moon pulls her glow from the sun,
I pulled my light from you,
so I guess it's meant to be that we move on
and revolve
in the absence of one another.
Meet me under the next eclipse.

You were my sun.
*You will always be my sun.