Looking at the Moon

I’ve tried to write about stars.

About counting them with loved ones

Piecing them together into pictures

As you try and piece together just what your heart is saying

As he slips his hand into yours.

But I’ve never been one for stars.

Never learned the names for the constellations

Or even just sat out staring at them.

No, I’ve always been a moon girl.

When the opportunity was right I’d go out and sit

My blanket tucked around me like mother’s arms

And I just stared at the moon.

The full bright light that

Even though most people say it’s a cliché

Actually did bathe me.

Purified the things inside me that I’d been hiding

Pulled out my voice as it pulls along the tide.

But I’ve never found anyone who understood that.

No one who understood the need for that singularity

The oneness of the sky

The simplicity of it all.

All the men I’ve loved

Prefer to paint pictures

As they interwine their fingers

And I just want the one.

One to fix the heart.

One to fix the pain

One to cover up the scars and breaks

One, just one name.

I don’t want a sky scattered with light

I just want one

One shining moon

Something to keep me constantly pulled

Somewhere between this earth

And the gravity of them.

But for now

I will sit

And absorb what light I get from this moon

Until I find my own.