The Light and the Moth

You told me that I was light and you were the moth

Drawn to my like I’m holding a golden ticket elsewhere.

We just met and you have broken every boundary I put into place

To keep me safely hidden in the confinement of my own mind.

We just met and I have already broken every law written on the

Walls of my skull, words I have repeated to myself over and over

While I sink into the bath water that has already run cold.

My clothes are still on and yet I feel stripped naked

And thrown out into the snow like a man that has been kicked

Out of the bar that he spent 13 years keeping alive by him alone

Buying drink after drink because his wife and kids left him.

There is no warning message displayed above your head

Like a pop up blocker on my laptop when I open a document online.

There is no buzzing noise warning me of impending danger

Like a tornado siren wailing in the middle of town.

No, there was no danger to be seen and I have yet to find

The hidden motive inside you that so many before have had.

I no longer waiting for 2:37 AM to come by and grab my shoulders,

I no longer wait for the chime of the 3 AM bell from the old

Rusted metal hanging hundreds of feet above my head.

No, I listen to the ringing in my ears, a lullaby that I have

Come to love, I listen to my staggered breath calm down,

I listen for the silent relaxation of my jaw into my pillow.

Because I know that in due time, my life will make sense again

I am dying for that time because the mess inside my brain

Has yet to clear and give me clarity that I deserve.

I have spent year after year trying to find the right key

That will open the door and send me through and

I can confidently say that I still have not found that key.

Maybe there isn’t a key, maybe the key is pure determination.

Maybe the key is the silent breath I let out when

My mind finally settles to on the collective notion

That when all is said and done, I will be left to

Settle in the dust because the walls of my Jericho

Have finally fallen and I must reap whatever is

Left of my beloved city and her knowledge that

Has guided many to their righteousness.

I have yet to find my undisturbed body of water

That I may watch for the rest of my days.

But in you, as oversweet as it may sound, I have found

My calm. My still breath that finally leads to the

Dismissal of consciousness. Yet I fight this calm,

For I have felt it before, and the thought of it

Wrapping its chilled fingers around my throat

Does not fascinate me in the least bit.

You called me the light, and yourself the moth, funny

How the creatures we like the least are often what

Guide us to what we need the most in the moment.

You called me the light but I see myself as a

Dimmed light bulb that flickers just enough to catch

Your interest and guide to straight to me so that I may

Die out with company and not alone like many others

Have gone before me. There is not instruction book

That I can follow while embarking on this mission

That I must finish lest my ship be taken by the

Sea and never to be raised again by Davie Jones’ cold,

Deadly hands. Though I wish to raise my past ship,

The cost is far too great and noticeably a hoax.

No, you called me the light and I am flattered to

Be compared to something so pure but you should

Be aware that with light also comes darkness,

And darkness is the absence of light, so it is said,

So it shall be. So you may be the moth if you so

Wish, and I will be your light, guiding your safe

Travels through the night to me.