The sun fell from the sky today like it always does, a great red ball hurtling towards the horizon and I pretend.
I pretend that I feel something as night paints my world in colors only I can see. I pretend that there's a reason for me to rise while the sun sets and the moon chases the sun's trail across the sky.
In the meantime...
When I spare a moment to think, I think of chasms. Great huge cliffs, with the sea stretching forever. I think of distances travelled and how far I have yet to go.
If it weren't for their needing me, I wouldn't be here, for I feel the pull of the open air. I think I could reach out and touch it. Just sail away on wings of metaphor, because I doubt I'll earn any others.
I don't understand, though. I don't understand why I'm still here, walking this earth, when my sun set so long ago.
They think because of what I am, that I don't miss the sunlight. That my soul doesn't crave it. That I don't suffer from its lack.
But they never knew you the way I did. They never knew that even in my darkest times, you were my sun.
And you, my brave, beautiful girl, you tried your wings without me. You flung yourself at the sky, sailed to the sun.
And no matter what I pretend, all I know is you got singed, that the wax melted, that you fell from the sky in a flutter of feathers, falling hard to the earth you were sworn to protect.
I wasn't there to catch you when you fell.