Why must your monsters congregate at my window,
and scare my sleep away?
Why did I think love would be so reassuring
every second of my every day?
Where do stars go when they fall?
Yes, where on Earth did you hide them?
For, wherever it was that I fell in love,
I found only a million more in my sky
And why do I believe the sky to be mine?
Isn't it owned (in ways) by us all?
Isn't all that's cherished by a heart its momentary belonging?
Or is it the other way around?
For love, like nothing else, can never be lost
It can be fashioned to convince us it’s gone
It can be irregularized into something
we condemn ourselves for seeking
But it's still there now, is it not?
Given, beheld, taken, and drawn
like a final breath
I assure you, I've got my questions, and very few answers
I'm full of doubt, but I've got plenty proof;
which is why your monsters don't scare me
It’s why I needn’t pray
The way I feel for you (and us) fills me with words,
but there is much that needn't be said
And, so long as you're here, I need no answers
(therefore pay my confusion no never-mind)
Poetry from Fancy Gravity by Shane Windham
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