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The Moon and The Sun - a slam poem


Poppy_

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I’ve been writing a lot because the voices in my head are getting louder and the only way to shut them up is to let the words flow from my fingertips onto this paper that likely no one will read.

The darkness is coming back. Damn... it’s heavy. I’ve been riding this high for a while and I think I’m coming down because I suddenly feel like the earth has given way beneath my feet and I’m slipping into something I don’t quite recognize.

I’ve been down the dark, lonely dirt roads before. That’s not new. But this… this feels different. This is something I’m not familiar with. The obsession growing inside me and trying to claw its way out to freedom. The racing thoughts that have gained so much power over my mind that it’s hard to think about anything else.

I’ve never felt this before. Not like this.

I’m going to talk about this in metaphors because I don’t think I’m quite ready to share this with the world yet. The thing about these thoughts, is that they’re safe inside my head. They’re protected. They’re mine. So, in a metaphorical sense, let me tell you what’s going on.

At night, I dream about the stars and the moon. I dream about the way the darkness kisses the earth so soft that it almost hurts. I pray that dawn will not break because something inside of me needs the ocean to stay the way it is. The dark is quiet, and it whispers promises of better days. At night, the breath of the midnight air brushes against the trees ever so lightly that the trees cry out for more.

I know the sun envies the moon because the moon is so highly admired, and the sun is called blinding. The moon is beautiful and soft and radiates the peace and comfort that hearts long for. The moon makes promises of love and trust that feels like holding hands and falling in love.

I remember meeting the moon and how the light shined just enough for me to fall in love with the dark. When I was a child, I was afraid of the dark. I remember how the moon followed me home on the dark nights and kept me company. I was no longer afraid of the dark.

When the sun shines, the promises of better days are obsolete. I’m suddenly reminded that the promises of the night only ring true in darkness and in the light, you change your mind. When the day breaks, it’s loud and busy and you no longer think about me. I know this because when the darkness comes to play, I see your face in the stars.

Shooting stars and wishes are like dandelions on a warm day in the spring. They’re like children making silly requests from a flower that has already bloomed and will not deliver anything. Wishing and hoping never did anything for me. Flowers die and the sun rises and time never stops. Kisses end and tears dry and no matter how hard you try, you can’t control the universe.

I guess I’m just trying to say that the moon is my friend and I’m in love with the dark. I don’t hope for anything because the universe will always let you down. But with this, I can’t stop thinking about the flowers and the empty wishes from naïve children, I can’t stop thinking about how the sun is jealous of the moon and about how the moon is never alone because the moon has the stars. But no one gives a second thought to the sun. The sun is never enough. The sun is daytime and the moon is nighttime and the promises come in the dark. This, I know.

Yours truly,
The Sun

Edited by Poppy_

3 Comments


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I resonated so much with feeling protected by the moon as well as how it follows you around through the night, it was comforting

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3 hours ago, TopazMoon said:

This is so beautiful, you really have a talent with words.

Thank you so so much. You have no idea what this comment means to me :throb:

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