My friend, the Moon

Ocean blue eyes gazing at the Moon,

Through the cracks I meticulously placed in my broken window blinds.

The creation of a mind far too young, adapted for survival.

And with the thudding sound of his heavy footfalls,

I escape the inevitable.

Floating away to live on the Moons dusty surface,

Two hundred thousand miles away.

There is no fear or pain here.

The lack of breathable air is fatal to my lungs,

And yet, I don't fight it.

This chest breaking pressure,

This mind-melting, white knuckling of fists,

Serves as a reminder that I am here.

I am living, safe on the Moon,

While my self-abandoned body lies discarded behind him.

Like every time before, the Moon holds me close in a tight hug.

She tells me that the icy numbness flowing through my veins, is only a distraction.

I will never fight off the monster if I cannot bear to face it.

Taking a questioning deep breath,

I allow myself to plummet back to earth.

What if the danger has not yet passed?

What if my uninhabited, dead body has forgotten how to live?

What if the deep rooted hate has settled into my bones,

And I cannot scrub it clean?

Back on ground, I dare to take a quick glance up at the night sky,

Where the blanketing comfort of the Moon lingers as only a memory.

I am truly alone.

I am unsure of what the future will hold,

Or how I will get there.

But I know that the crack in my window blinds, remains untouched.

And anytime I need,

My friend, the Moon,

She will welcome me back.