and every night
when you steal
seconds to glance
at the moon, I
hope you slip
into hours, days of
being reminded
of me,
running through your bones,
moving like the stars,
that maybe I was
not made to be the sun,
because, perhaps,
you are,
and all I did was
reflect to show you,
that the moon was
never second best,
just a reminder of you,
when you shone
somewhere else.

i am the moon | shevaun stonem

Everyday,
multiple times
you remind me of my beauty
because I can no longer
do this for myself.
You tell me that one day
I will believe these words.
They will eventually sink
into my DNA.
You tell me the words will
one day feel real and until they do
you will continue on.
You do not make me
feel ashamed that these words
are foreign to my diseased brain.
While you call me breathtaking
I tell myself I am not deserving of breath.
Your words restore me.
They keep me alive
until the next dosage of
your selfless reminders.

a love to prove,
a flower for the pain,
the thorns removed—
but the shadow remains.

Home, late after a hard day of work
Kitchen dimly lit with a night light
Eyes adjusting — out of the corner
Notice the dump truck left after a hard day of play
A beautiful reminder of my greatest achievement

you taught me
how much love
truly resides in me,
how capable I am,
of loving, being loved,

but you also
reminded me,
of why I had
built walls around
my heart so high,
that even I couldn't
get a peak.

Whether you look up in the trees
Or down to the bottom of the sea,
Mother nature's beauty is plain to see.
But one look at the hurricanes
and fires on tv
Serve as a reminder
Of what she can do
if we make her angry

From the moon,
comes a letter of reconciliation,
an apology carried with the tide.
Written in an ink infused with hope,

to be read on those restless nights.