Letters: Saying Goodnight

My love,

Since we’ve said goodnight, I’ve had a pit in my chest. I really can’t know if you love me as I love you. How can I know if you are sure as I am sure?

When I fall, I fall hard. I feel as if you’ve brought me to the moon, and each evening I must fall back to my room. Each morning I make the trek back to you. Climbing to the surface to breathe once more. To see once more. To be once more.

I believe I found purgatory. The place between heaven and hell. When I rise when I fell. Like I’m caught in your spell, of your wakefulness and your slumber.

I’m afraid this eternal tollway will break me. Will take me for all I have. Forsake me.

You must sleep, and yet I cannot. When I fall, I fall hard. Buried deep in my crater. Burrowed beneath my creator. Saving me for later. Just you speak, and I’ll stay there.

You seem to be a fantasy. Fantastically, unimaginably, perfectly made for me. Are you real, or do I dream? If I dream, don’t wake me. Let me be in this fantasy.

My luckless lungs long for you. You’re lux and lush. I’m bound and crushed. Stored and shush. Forever stored. Forever more. Forever yours.

Lost Cartographer