A Distant Comfort

I’m slipping away;
through my very own fingers, I slip.
Is it maybe true after all;
do some people just not know
how to cope with themselves?

We simply carry too much around;
too much fear that seeks out
comfort; don’t we all get cheated on –
in one way or another –
by life, at one point

or another; when the sky starts to fall,
and you are the only one there
to catch it; you have no choice
but to choose –
do you look up or down?

In this, the sky alone can’t comfort me;
a very fearful breath to take,
indeed; when you feel as distant
as the moon, I can feel myself,
slipping away

through my very own fingers
I slip, because you are not the moon
to me; you are the entire sky.
You chewed up the moon and left

a darkness in which I cannot
tell the up from the down;
and in this, you alone
can’t comfort me. When you swoop
and start your fall, I slip;

away, I feel myself slip
through my very own fingers.
Swallow me whole
(if I can’t catch you) –
let me sleep on the moon tonight.

2 Responses to “A Distant Comfort”
  1. Nezra's Opiate says:

    I know the feeling..
    Good piece.


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