What should I want to say when I'm stuck in this time and place, where I'm neither here and you're neither there, and we're neither anywhere. How should I want to cry when your shoulders are no longer here to receive my tears, and your hands are no longer there to trace my broken wings. How can I will time to go by, when the past is so clear and the holdings of the future so uncertain. How should I pray when no syllables are there to utter from my mouth and fall from my tongue. Where should I go, when I have a hundred strings tied to me, pulling me everywhere and nowhere. How should I feel, when the times that I do I concave and fall apart inside of myself in the center of my sorrow. They say that's what happens when stars are born, but I am no star and you are no longer my sun. I try to talk to the moon about you but he hides beneath a cover of clouds, peeking out every so often to let me know he's still there. Still listening, though he may have no words to impart with. He sits beside my pain as I repeat my ramblings into the still darkness, over and over until they become dog-eared and faded. They flutter around me for a while before scattering upon the arrival of dawn. Soon the light will be reaching my toes and inching up my skin until I am drowning in the warmth of the sun. For but a brief moment, it is not the sun, but you, kissing my skin and bringing me back to life. I open my eyes and you're gone, the memory of you fading just as fast as it came, chasing the moon as I once chased you. I watch the stars disappear as my eyelids begin to close and I drift off to sleep, not knowing what the dawn will bring.
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