Short of Breath

I always love when days get
so long and tragically dark that
we believe we can see the stars.

It's moments in life like that we have to thank
for our growth. I find it inspiring that emptiness and fear
are brave enough to offer us a chance to question
and test our faith - I know what you're about to say
and yes, I am writing this at 2 a.m. while doing that exact
thing (questioning. Testing). But what kind of artist would I
be if I banished my starside rants from these hallowed pages
of clarity and what would I gain from my poetic

therapy sessions if I didn't at least try to make
something more stunning than roses or moons
from my pain? So allow me, if you will, to return
to my point. Because as people - nothing more than
the atoms that form the elements of our societies,

we crave friction and contact, balance and gentleness.
We must be reminded that others out there have felt
what we are feeling just as strongly. We must know
that never in any second of time will we be
truly alone. I have noticed something fascinating

in the way humans manage to be stars (fueled
and passionate) and snowflakes (frigid and stoic)
all at once - without ever so much as batting an eyelash

and no matter how horrible we feel or how dark
the sky gets,we will Always remain more radiant
than the sun and more complex than any universe.

And it's always thoughts like this
that get me through the days
when I forget how to breathe.