Solitude

There’s a billion stars in the sky

And only one moon.

It’s a gift to be alone,

But a price for solitude.

 

Prized is a blade of grass in a Dust Bowl,

I found it a fitting fame,

For raindrops love to kiss me

And leave me wondering my name.

 

I sowed your seed of adoration

To remove traces of ash,

I bit into you as a starving leech

When you tried to snap my neck.

 

You promised to always be there

Should chlorophyll reflect blue,

But what I’ve come to uncover

Is in the dust, not much remains true.

 

Reliance I’d learned to master,

You as my water source.

In our barren desert

Water is found, not searched for.

 

When rain left me parched,

And stars retreated to clouds,

I turned to you for a saving hand

And into the dust I fell.

 

 I searched for your promised saving,

But found you turned to dust

And now all the dust had turned to rust

And clotted inside my lungs.

 

Black particles choke me,

I see you leave,

You run, embracing the Sun’s neck,

And I’m alone with lifeless dust,

My broken arms longing

For warmth to melt their cuffs.

 

There’s a billion stars,

And only one moon,

But that’s not the entity

I long to speak to.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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