Me and the moon have this quiet little deal:
she lights up the night, and I keep her secrets.
When the world goes quiet, she shows up at my window,
silver and full, a little sad just like me sometimes.
I tell her about the days that wore me out,
about the words I never said out loud,
about my heart beating a bit faster when no one’s watching.
She just listens, no judgment, only glow.
Some nights she’s half, some nights just a thin line,
but she always comes back.
Like me, even when I get lost,
I find myself again in the dark.
Me and the moon are old friends.
She knows I don’t need the sun every night—
her soft light is enough
to keep walking forward.
Good night, old moon.
Keep my secrets safe again tonight
