i was born in the sun
and take from it what i need,
but it’s the moon that enchants me most.
i don’t celebrate the sun.
it burns, and burns, and burns;
i find no beauty in that.
you can celebrate his predictability
and how well he governs himself,
but don’t you dare trust his shiny smile
for if you look too deeply into his eyes,
he’ll singe yours to a crisp.
his light will devour yours.
run. don’t celebrate the sun.
celebrate the moon.
you may have to wait a while for her;
lord knows she’s got a lot of phases to go through
but she’ll always come around;
just not on your terms.
she’ll keep you up late and be the crash
at the intersection of your thoughts
and the silence you can’t ignore.
if you’re brave enough to take her hand,
she’ll call forth the wild child you left behind;
the one you secretly miss.
she was the only credit to the time
that you felt fully alive.
swoon. celebrate the moon.