And when the night grew unbearably dark,
the moon vanished, and the stars were lost to the abyss,
You became the stars with your eyes.
Your gaze—pale fire, burning soft—lit the endless void,
calming my restless heart, dispelling my dread of the night.

And when the day erupted into thunderstorms,
You stood before me, a fortress against the raging sky,
A shield from the lightning's savage crack,
An umbrella sheltering me from the pouring rain.
Your smile was the first sunbeam breaking through the chaos,
a balm for my soul, quieting my terror of the thunder’s roar.

But one day, you disappeared.
Now I drift through each day, drowning in the gray,
No longer do I tremble in the darkness,
for I have learned to find solace in its cold embrace.

And one day, the thunder no longer frightens me.
Instead, I find comfort in its furious screams—
the ones that drown out the deafening silence inside,
the voice whispering:
I wish I didn’t have to pretend to be whole,
that I wasn’t broken,
that I wasn’t afraid,
because the mask I wore—
was my only armor, my only shield,
to appear strong, when you were no longer there.