To skip in the shadows, disappear in small rooms.

I have no need of the sun's bright light,

Filtering into corners, dispersing the night.

The moon cups my face in a silvered truth,

Cool as a promise once made in my youth.

It teaches my pulse how to soften and slow,

How safety can bloom where the dark lets me grow.

Here I am honest, a whisper, a tide,

No mirrors demanding the masks that I hide.

The calm of its glow knows the shape of my name,

It calls me back home without guilt or shame.

But the sun is an audit, a merciless stare,

Peeling back lies, exposing thin air.

It withers my dreams and denies fragile hopes sleep.

Its glare interrogates every memory I keep.

False vows flare up in its clinical gaze,

Promises blister and burn into days,

Where my bones unlearn fear and my breath answers me,

I loosen my grip on the person they need me to be.

I cradle my truth in the arms of the night,

Where cool, quiet softness outshines borrowed light,

And if I disappear before the end of the day,

The moon was calling.....

So I cannot stay.

Written by https://www.threads.com/@thriftygirl365

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