Borrowed Light

Dear Mother Moon,

I’m struggling.

I’ve lost control over the most precious thing I have—my life.

But not in the way you might think.

.

My energy isn’t even my own anymore; it belongs to everyone else.

I have to conserve it to persuade, to sell, to keep someone else’s dream alive.

And I miss me.

.

When I look up at you, you light the night with borrowed fire.

Your glow isn’t your own—

and yet, you are all I see,

the only one I want to see.

.

How do you do it?

So flawless, so untouchable,

like nothing could ever bring you down.

I see you day and night,

beautiful in every phase,

giving only the purest of yourself to us—

to me.

.

I want to be the brightest in the sky,

not for everyone’s pleasure,

but for my own.

To use others’ fire to spark my own.

Instead, I’m drained—

overwhelmed by tasks that never mattered,

forgotten by those who need me most.

.

A fallen star.

But even stars shine the brightest

on their way out.

Is that what I need—

a way out?

.

Yet when I look again,

you are still there—

whole, even when half of you is gone.

Maybe I can be too.