It's not that she's sunlight
She is moon
She shines brightly she's not calm or elegant or anything but there's something soft about her
She is moon
There's craters no one asks about but I see them and I'm too afraid to ask
Does it hurt
Of course it does
Do you remember how you got them
I want to soothe them

She doesn't make me feel whole or complete
She isn't my other half
I don't want to be her other half but I can keep her whole when no one else can
She's not the missing piece and neither am I and maybe that's how it's meant to be
We fill the seats others will take
Just for the ride for now until we find the lost parts of ourselves and we realise
We won't find ourselves with each other but we can warm the seats of the ones who will find us

​Something I'll always remember is the relief of letting go

And the panic of falling after

All I had was holding on

And now it's just air wind, and it whistles

It whistles in my ears, making my thoughts seem louder

Did I time it right

Should I have

I'll never know now will I

The ground rushes from below and  I'm not sure if it's soft enough will someone catch me will someone see me hello it seems I'm on my own I can scream but the wind takes my voice and puts it in its pocket pats it and that's when I realise I am screaming

I'm not falling and I'm actually just in the meadow dreaming about letting go

and the flowers wave from side to side their whispers reaching me

Crazy that one she is

My heart was racing but now it has stopped, and I realize

I realize I've just made a fool, and the fool is me

My cheeks redden and I bow my head

The curtains close

Acta est fabula

And I wished I hadn't taught her to close off
Because now when I most needed to know what she felt
Her face was an empty canvas her eyes hollow
A hardened soldier
Do you understand me I ask
She nods
That's all
Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face
My heart never sank so fast

In the end, it was just me
The fire had settled
The world as I knew it had burned
So, I used the ashes to paint my future
I used it to paint my walls
I showed the world
I beckoned with a crooked finger
This is where I came from i say gesturing with a broken hand
But like a museum, it's just to look at it
And I, the owner, the collector of my past's artifacts, rarely visit

My words repeat themselves
They shudder on my tongue
I hold them in my mouth and open to let them out
But all they do is hide like shy children behind their mothers
They settle at the bottom of my throat and set up camp
They build fires and burn my lungs
I feel like a broken car
Sputtering and huffing
And for the first time in a long while
I feel like the teenager I am
And I remember why I left that girl behind