I miss the purple sunset as it weighs upon my thighs a heaviness of sorrow like a lock of hair kept as a memory of some better time, where love and joy flourished and no one was ever wrong.

The pure sadness of that moment of realization, the cool hand of dark as it transforms my words into poetry. It is devastatingly cold in its conviction to bar my warm thoughts.

The body grows colder, the light is fading, it is memory lost.

Her cheeks are stained with vibrant tears as she too starts to forget what happiness feels like. She remembers only that she wanted it so desperately.

She looks at me, and reaches for me. The distance is too far for her to reach. There was not enough light in the whole world to help her, not enough to warm her heart.

A feeling of opaque coldness entered my chest. I realized then that she was me, and that he was my moon.

He that was now gone forever from my heart, which was aching more and more each new moment.

He that had filled my days with joy like that of the purple sunset, and now his light was drifting away. Further from me now than ever.

He is ended; I am just now beginning. I need to grow alone, and make a light for myself. This I will do, no matter what it takes.

This I can do. I can feel the light already beginning in the core of my very being. It grows brighter with each word, my heart lighter with each breath.

The worst is over, the journey is about to begin.