Tipsy
sitting on the edge of the moon
my feet dangle, miles away from the edge of the sky
I’m not high
just drunk on love and the thought that the tiny people down below are obsolete to the point of death
I hold my breath
afraid to exhale for the fear that my air will burst the bubble I am living in
It can’t be a sin
to look up at the stars and wish you were up there with them
to wish that the world would stop rotating so quickly
to wish that the hands on the clock would just pause for a moment.

This moment of silence does not offer my brain relief instead it offers me loneliness
because when your sitting on the edge of the moon the view down below is magnificent
but so far away
I exhale, the bubbles walls bursting around me
and I am lonely for another day.