you die every night and are reborn at dawn.
you are a walking graveyard,
an army of yesterday’s ghosts,
and you no longer remember who you were at the beginning.
do not weep for the stranger that once inhabited your bones.
moonbeams trickle from your eyes,
let the light pool at your feet and throw it to the cosmos.
not even God can help the fool who falls in love with you,
how can you bare your soul to someone when you don’t know what it looks like?