I think the Moon knows
I'm watching Her
Because sometimes,
                           She leaves me presents
It may sound silly
But I've got a jar full of Her secrets
That I keep in a lockbox under my bed
The pass code; Luna
So I'll praise Her title
Each time I uncover
The hidden gifts She's given to me

Purified droplets of moonlight.

The size of a jewel
The weight of a diamond
The glow of an angel
The shine of a star

The Moon probably knows
I'm watching Her
Because sometimes,
                            I find a drop
In the bud of a flower
Sometimes,
                  in the pit of a well
Sometimes,
                  in the cave of an animal
Sometimes,
                  in the crack of a rock
Sometimes,
                  in the hollow of a tree
Sometimes,
                  in the current of a stream
And on the rarest of occasions
I'll find Her lodged between the pages
Of my notebook

I've collected a dreams worth of gems now
So whenever I find myself,
                                       Lost.
- Swallowed by the void -
I'll have enough moonlight in my jar
To ignite the darkest of days
And the presence
                             of Her presents
Will go unnoticed by no shadow
Or creature of the night.

Luna knows I'm watching Her.

I'll continue to gaze from below
And let no stone go unturned
So when the Moon drips again
I'll be there to catch Her
Another crystallized droplet of a blessing
To tuck away
In the box under my bed.

my mind is a house of colors
the walls are splattered in paint
i’ve hung up diamond chandeliers
translucent—glimmering in the moonlight
splattering rainbows across the walls
maybe the paint is a figment of my imagination.

my mind is a killer whale
treading the dark foaming waters of the ocean
the great whites mock me
the great whites are listening.
i hide in the sea kelp of the great blue deep
the midnight shadows of the witching hour
caress my fins like wet rolling tapestries
endless movement
endless running waves
racing like my own heartbeat
thumping like the longest drum line

my mind is a hollow cave
humid, wet, dripping water from limestone formations
strange echoes from within its depths
i can never understand the muffled whispers
but though they petrify others
they soothe me.
i have turned to salt rock
from all the untrue words my tongue has spoken
bitter, like salt on a lime
but delicious

my mind is a dusty attic
rustic and beautiful to the creative eye
it has become an art room
with a canvas stand in the corner
and paint splattered across the dark wooden floorboards
misshapen ceilings
beautiful arcs and painted glass windows
a pretty little white picket fencing
the mailman is sleepwalking

my mind is a dream
but i’m all too awake
and i’m unsure
as to whether or not
i’m living a nightmare

I used to think I was starving for love.
There was a gnawing pain in my chest.
My tears fell from above
While my nerves felt shocked and pressed.
My body under pressure
Turning me into a diamond one day.
I felt starved.
I felt bordered by such labels.
Now I think I’m insatiable.
Your love to fuel me.
When I drove to you the sky is always beautiful.
My new diamond edge cuts through my old walls.
Now with you I’m vulnerable
Because I’ve always recovered from my falls.

Here the girl goes.

Plucked a bunch of hobbies,
From the dream lobbies.
Stemmed, rooted in her soul,
She garnered hard, to let the diamond shine out of coal.
Looking all around; fields of roses, she is a wild daisy.
Trying hard to find a way, but its all hazy.
All she wants to create a masterpiece,
Her hobbies, passion divided her hardwork in pieces.
Her mind fragments trying hard to lookafter every art she knows,
But under human capacity, it is difficult to be consistent in every art she knows.
She knows it all, yet she is lost,
She is the ballet dream dancer and too a host.
Enjoying a ride with dreams,
Stars aligning in a row and scattering gleams.
A wonderer, over thinker she is,
Thats the worst part yet the best it is.
Chasing soft breeze and a sudden switch she wants to travel in the speed of light,
Star gazer she is, admirer of dark night.
Light is her home, dark is she allures,
When dark lives within her, light she creates,
Beauty may be she isn't, she thinks of,
But a beast out of art colours she creates.
©heeranshimishra