ode to the introvert.

at night
it hits.
a sting
a memory
a painful aftertaste
that won't wash away.

during light
you are fine.
the sun seems to
drench
the face
erase all.

but the moon
has no humor.

it wants you to cry.
to be alone.
to weep past
mistakes.

but you are stronger
than the moon
than the dark
than the face.

little by little
your scab will form.
if you don't pick it
it will heal
and leave a
scar.

a wonderful
scar.
a story
to tell.

fresh skin is gone
but
who is
perfect
anyway.