Like A Knife In The Moon

Like a knife in the moon, you feel the pain in the shadows. No one can see it, only by looking at your face can they wonder. Only everybody passes by you, using your light but never looking up. They take your glow and pretend you don’t see. So you stay in the sky looking over all, but virtually invisible. As time passes you fall into the horizon, and in due time you are forgotten for what you lit up in the dark.
You are described as depressing and dark. Only because you rise at night.Your light isn’t even yours, only borrowed by the sun who is always shining. All you do is paint the picture in the night sky, and pull the waves of tears down below. Every night you drag yourself through the night, pretending the next night it will be different. So you repeat to yourself, it will be different, until you reach the horizon. Then every night you are shown otherwise.
Those who look upon you with sad eyes only portray you as a mirror to their tribulations. They speak to you with words that never touch your heart, but somehow they think it does. Without a mouth to say anything you silently agree to what hurts you the most, that no one understands you. You can’t cry because you’ve done that, you can’t scream because your throat can’t take anymore. You can’t think because you lost your mind in the dark.
Walking through life with glass at your feet. You step on each glass knowing you broke the glass yourself. Yet you step onto it nevertheless, and you have a secret satisfaction to it. You look at yourself in the many shards on the floor and you only see your pain. It surpasses you abilities to express yourself, but you know its’s all written inside your chest.
Your heart is incomprehensible, and your mind can only fathom what you feel. You try and count your scars, but it’s like counting stars. You look back and forth and try to compare past and present, and all you can find is pieces of yourself lost and lost again. Your pain coagulates inside your soul, or at least what you think a soul is. Not knowing when the pain will end, you assume death is the only option. Yet it is said unending fire and agony will await you after you commit what you secretly long for. So you’re stuck in your cage battling your thoughts all your sorrowful life.
But at least you know the moon will always be there, letting you take it for granted. Letting you see your tears in the dark.