The Suns Truth

No one has to tell the sun to be happy. It just is.

It's big, bright, loud, warm, joyful.

You expect certain things from the sun because it has never proven before it could possibly be sad.

So you can imagine, I had no idea it would go like this.

The sun never stops being happy, but clouds exist, don't they?

Rainy, cloudy, cold, and silent days exist.

But when a person behaves like the sun. almost always.

You forget, the clouds have to come eventually.

And yet, why is it such a shock this time?

Why didn't we plan for this?

When places where you learned about yourself, that you called home, are torn down and dug up.

A dark cloud appears on a face that once shown like a sunset.

How did I not know?

A pain ripping through your stomach when someone rips back the ray of sunshine curtain you used to hide the darkness... pointing at it with a score board that mimics midnight.

I knew. I knew it. I avoided it. My lungs fill with weight unbearable.

People never really assumed you could hold on long anyway.

My body creaks with dust and guilt and stagnant pools only the moon can find its refection in.

But she is fire. She is light. No. She's something like acid rain.

I got burnt, literally. And I was stunned, because how can the sun burn itself?

Unless it was only pretending to be... I was pretending to be...

For so long I swallowed bricks and created a wall thicker than the strongest safe.

Good luck cracking a code I never learned to begin with.

Maybe tonight the sun learned it could be sad after all... or maybe it just finally saw the value in the moon.

This is the suns truth.

After trying to find comfort in the story she was always meant to be happy... you could still light up a room by sharing with the moon and stars.