She’s like the sun.

When I first liked her,

It was because she could brighten my day,

Could paint my skin with the warmth of her sunlight.

Never a cloud in sight,

Her smile could light me up.

With a single touch she could drape a warm blanket over me,

Could make me feel comfortable and safe.

She’s like the sun.

At first, I enjoyed the warmth.

But after hours of it beating down on my skin,

After spending so long in unbearable heat,

I wish a cloud could drift by.

Why does it always have to be sun, sun, sun?

Can’t there be nights?

Can’t there be clouds?

Just for a moment,

I wish I could escape the heat.

I thought I liked the sun,

But now I’m starting to overheat.

She’s like the sun.

I built an artificial love for her because I was cold and lonely.

I needed warmth, and she had that.

So why am I even colder?

Why do I feel even more alone?

She loves me.

I got what I wanted, didn’t I?

So why do I chase every second of shade I can get?

Why do I breathe easier when I can escape her?

She’s like the sun.

Sickly heat is bringing sweat to my skin,

Discomfort every time we touch.

What used to send shivers up my spine now sends dread settling in my stomach.

It’s exhausting,

Pretending her “radiance” doesn’t make me want to scream.

I want to get away, away, away.

I did this, though.

I forfeited freedom,

So now I am trapped under the sun’s never-ending rays.

She’s like the sun.

And going inside isn’t enough.

Hiding under a tree _isn’t enough_.

I want dark skies and twinkling stars,

A cold breeze slipping through my hair.

I miss the moon.