I don't pretend to understand why
my troubles fade as the moon rises
in the sky.
I've never found real comfort in
any ordinary bliss.
Only beauty of humanity in an anguish
such as this.
Any sense of promised safety
from a source other than my own
has always left me feeling crazy,
and even more so; all alone.
Time and time again I've seen;
I handle darkness best when it's just me.
I wonder if I'll ever find
some sort of delicate, worthwhile
Sometimes I write them, sometimes I share them.