Moon

I am bewitched by how the moon borrows light just to illuminate the darkest rooms in my heart. Its brightness is a warm touch of hope, spilling through the cellar walls of my mind. It calms me to stare at how destroyed she is and yet, still looks beautiful despite the scars left by those who broke her.

Ironic isn't it that this cratered satellite—no matter how wounded she is—chose to be with the lost and lonely souls fighting with themselves during countless sleepless nights. She's the one who stayed awake with me on those times of despair, silently listening at every little thing I can't voice out to the world.