My Heart Wrote This
Tonight I write to the moon. It’s gleaming brilliance above me. The prettiest light I’ve ever seen. I don’t think she can hear me. I chose to come to her in a weeping state over the coffee shop down the street. Beneath her I feel peace. I’m rewriting history; in this place I was with a boy, looking for his love while I sat in his lap. I couldn’t find it. We had the moon, my moon, you shine even when I feel pain and lack. I think about death and how it brings me closer to wanting to live, the more I think about it the more I come to life. On the brink of each choice, to live or to die, I wish for God to cough up the secrets on how to live this life.
I’m rewriting history, and I ask the boys I’ve loved: why didn’t you love me? A question lost in the wind.
I know I’m a sinner, but sinners need love too.
Two important men in my life died back to back, I truly have no Dad. When will I be okay with that? What are my forms of attachment, that I struggle to feel free? I want love from people who don’t see me.
I cry in my bed over a life I have yet to live, because I do not love what I have been given. Yet I have asked for all of this. Is it really that bad? I have a bed, a cat companion, a snake friend, a shower and food. There is always someone with less who bares a bigger smile than I. Why is my smile so hard to find? I’m rewriting my history, and the good part is I can start anywhere I wish. I look to the moon to show me the way. Maybe the stars can lead me to the center of my heart. Oh, I wish upon the moon in the sky. You light up the dark and when I cry I don’t feel alone, I feel your love, I feel your light. Help me come alive.