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Tuesday, April 1
Dear Starlight,
Is it fate that picked at the small pieces until I came undone? Why do I wonder when the time has come and gone, easing the pain and the joy away into the ether? You have come and gone, my dream, my day to fight, my ray of moonshine vibrating in the morning light. For the in-breath, for the out-breath, my fears lose ground and my brain becomes rewired to understand again a world without. I want to write these dreams again, I still need to, I still wish these words could be put to music and I could be the writer of the music that plays as starlight is born and a child is given life.
I was so confident and strong on the day we were born. I was unstoppable and unbelievable. I was designed for life. I was ready to put a stop to the madness, yet the madness overcame. Was it meant to be? Where were you, my protector? Is this what happens to love when ill-fated, when honest men lie, when women feign blamelessness?
And what about the explosions in the night sky? I hear the drumming of black fireworks in a midnight blue sky. This can't be, though it is a bitter taste, but it is more than what was. I am the darkness and the sleep in your eye, the flowers of regret, the love letter that come too late.
You should have read between the lines, sweet starlight. Title this: Over the edge, yet we will always rebuild. Title this: The tower is high, and we all fall down. Say: I've learned my lesson and the world is a beautiful place. Say: I'll worry about meaning later, the words must come first.
I've heard the wolves in the wild and the water is unquiet despite the changing of the world. Listen to them howl. Close your eyes and count as the children hide. The kids are alright, as has been said, and fate will always redefine.
And now this is the end and there is nothing left but a single thread -- I am the starlight.
I am the starlight. It isn't you. I am the woman who feigns blamelessness, I am the darkness and the ill-fated love. It isn't you. I am the failed protector and the innocent child. I am the wonder and the joy and the riverbed of sorrow. I am only one and I am sometimes sliding away and I am the truth and I am the permanence. I am all of these things. I am the old and the new. I am a third of the Trinity and I am something more than blasphemy.
It is finally... oh, could it be true?
Yes, it is finally time to be kind.
Is it fate that picked at the small pieces until I came undone? Why do I wonder when the time has come and gone, easing the pain and the joy away into the ether? You have come and gone, my dream, my day to fight, my ray of moonshine vibrating in the morning light. For the in-breath, for the out-breath, my fears lose ground and my brain becomes rewired to understand again a world without. I want to write these dreams again, I still need to, I still wish these words could be put to music and I could be the writer of the music that plays as starlight is born and a child is given life.
I was so confident and strong on the day we were born. I was unstoppable and unbelievable. I was designed for life. I was ready to put a stop to the madness, yet the madness overcame. Was it meant to be? Where were you, my protector? Is this what happens to love when ill-fated, when honest men lie, when women feign blamelessness?
And what about the explosions in the night sky? I hear the drumming of black fireworks in a midnight blue sky. This can't be, though it is a bitter taste, but it is more than what was. I am the darkness and the sleep in your eye, the flowers of regret, the love letter that come too late.
You should have read between the lines, sweet starlight. Title this: Over the edge, yet we will always rebuild. Title this: The tower is high, and we all fall down. Say: I've learned my lesson and the world is a beautiful place. Say: I'll worry about meaning later, the words must come first.
I've heard the wolves in the wild and the water is unquiet despite the changing of the world. Listen to them howl. Close your eyes and count as the children hide. The kids are alright, as has been said, and fate will always redefine.
And now this is the end and there is nothing left but a single thread -- I am the starlight.
I am the starlight. It isn't you. I am the woman who feigns blamelessness, I am the darkness and the ill-fated love. It isn't you. I am the failed protector and the innocent child. I am the wonder and the joy and the riverbed of sorrow. I am only one and I am sometimes sliding away and I am the truth and I am the permanence. I am all of these things. I am the old and the new. I am a third of the Trinity and I am something more than blasphemy.
It is finally... oh, could it be true?
Yes, it is finally time to be kind.
