I waited, I waited, I waited,
and I waited a little bit longer.
Someday, somehow,
somebody had to save me.
They had to, they did,
because I never thought that I could save myself.
And you know what?
I didn't have to.
We wait for the one because anything else would be simply embarassing.
But I didn't get one, oh no.
I got three.
The moon.
The stars.
The sun.
Eventually everything stopped making sense.
There was a wolf knocking on my door, and I was begging him to break it down.
Wolves howl at the moon, that's just their nature.
But he never did.
He spent hours and hours just sitting, just staring.
Waiting?
What big eyes you have, Mr. Wolf.
Big, brown eyes.
The moon saved me from my past.
The stars shone like jewels that night,
the night that I encountered the troll.
Trolls live under bridges, that's just what they're used to.
He asked me his riddle,
I gave him my answers.
All of the wicked games and aggressive glares followed us.
They followed us all the way back under the bridge.
The stars saved me from my future.
For the first time, I saw the sun.
An existence of wanting and waiting was made that little bit easier by it's bright, nourishing light.
The sun made me forget why I had once cowered in fear,
once shaken with anger.
The sun saved me from my life.
I don't remember when things stopped making sense.
Maybe it was the night I tore my chest apart and screamed below the moon.
Maybe it was the night I spoke to the stars and they spoke back.
Maybe it was the morning that the sun made me forget.