deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Letter to the Moon
I admire her,
I suppose that’s woefully inadequate.
She is graceful and clumsy,
Hardly average and wholly kind.
Love;
Meaning connection.
It is held in the shape of her smile,
In the stitches on her converse.
She often calls herself stupid,
I see so much in her eyes.
A mind full of thoughts,
And a voice so full of feeling.
It falls so casually from her lips,
She is oblivious to the profoundness hidden within each mumble.
Intellect and insecurity,
A distinct abnormal normality.
She is special,
Sharper than diamond and no less beautiful.
Though she doesn’t shine like a jewel,
But instead like new and fresh fire.
She speaks with rain behind her words,
Hidden in the wavering of her laughter.
She often cries,
But it’s louder in her own head.
Friendship;
Meaning her.
It is held in the strings of a guitar,
In eggless cookie dough.
I suppose that’s woefully inadequate.
She is graceful and clumsy,
Hardly average and wholly kind.
Love;
Meaning connection.
It is held in the shape of her smile,
In the stitches on her converse.
She often calls herself stupid,
I see so much in her eyes.
A mind full of thoughts,
And a voice so full of feeling.
It falls so casually from her lips,
She is oblivious to the profoundness hidden within each mumble.
Intellect and insecurity,
A distinct abnormal normality.
She is special,
Sharper than diamond and no less beautiful.
Though she doesn’t shine like a jewel,
But instead like new and fresh fire.
She speaks with rain behind her words,
Hidden in the wavering of her laughter.
She often cries,
But it’s louder in her own head.
Friendship;
Meaning her.
It is held in the strings of a guitar,
In eggless cookie dough.
Published 1st Jul 2024
Author's Note
A sunny disposition, illuminated by pale moonlight. A friend, chasing the clouds from space. I hope she one day reaches them. A cruel fate, happiness intertwined with the promise of grief and the overwhelming whispers of the mind.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Oh my god. I am going to murder you for making me cry at 9 am on a Sunday morning. HELLO WHAT I HAVE NEVER THIS IS WHAT
(Wait it’s Monday oh my goodness time does not exist)
(Wait it’s Monday oh my goodness time does not exist)
1st Jul 2024 8:41pm
IT IS MONDAY LMAOOOO!! SEE YOU WEDNESDAY (you better know the songs by Wednesday istg)
