Nocturne

The weather became so sick of being predictable

This night is made mostly of

thunder,

lightning,

and a little of rain

but were I to choose between a memory or two

I'd choose ones that I get to be with you
  
  
 

I could give you all the love I've grown in my hands,

Just imagine all the poems I could write

If I could just control the tide,

the waves in my chest,

But I am not the moon

And your smile might be

the first sun that shone on me today.

But I didn't smile back.

I couldn't.
  
 
  
When he made me see darkness,

My eyes took its sweet time to adjust

and maybe this is just me

getting overwhelmed to all

this radiance you emit,

and maybe this is just me

not being brave enough

again,

or maybe this is just me.

Just me.
 
  
 
Maybe I should just forget the part where I imagine writing all those poems.