Moonless

sometimes,

i just want to stand

under a moonless night…

no silver,

no witness,

no sky pretending to be kind.

just me—

crying for no reason,

and the rain crying with me…

without end.

without explanation.

without needing one.

i am tired—

god, i am tired.

tired of carrying memories

that weigh more than my body,

tired of fighting battles

my eyes can’t even see.

i sleep

just to forget the ache…

but every morning,

the ache wakes up before me,

sitting on my chest,

asking,

“miss me?”

faces fade,

but their names don’t.

they stay sharp—

cutting my days

into smaller and smaller pieces.

and i ask myself,

“are you okay?”

and the answer is a knife:

i’ve forgotten

what it means

to be human.

so i cry—

not because i choose to,

not because i want to,

but because tears

are the last proof

that i am still alive…

even when a part of me

is quietly whispering

that it doesn’t want to be.