Letter to the Witness

Dear Moon—

You saw me when I thought I was invisible.

The night pretends to hide me,

but your light keeps the truth honest.

You’ve watched me gather versions of myself

and mistake reflection for peace.

You’ve seen my hands tremble

each time I tried to hold stillness

like something that could break.

Tell me,

do you ever grow tired of shining

for those who forget to look up?

Do you ache for the ones who speak to you

only when they are lonely?

I’ve learned your phases aren’t changes—

they’re reminders.

You never disappear.

You rest.

You return.

If there’s holiness in survival,

then you are the hymn that proves it.

Because even in halves,

you are whole.

So tonight,

I write without asking for light—

only reflection.

Only a place to see myself

without the noise of wanting to be seen.

Thank you

for keeping me in orbit

long enough to understand

that even darkness

needs something to talk to.