The Moon

Who knows what you mean to me now?
You're like the moon. Always there; always on my mind.
And you're so damn beautiful.
But maybe
You're just a big rock, floating in space.
Maybe you're not mystical, maybe you're nothing but dust.
Maybe not the magic kind.
Maybe.

And maybe I have no fucking clue where I am going with this
And I just need to just sort it out.
But the image of your eyes clouds my own vision Of where I stand and where I am heading.
And I am just lost.


(Taken from Tumblr. Not mine though I wish I wrote this.)