[Image Description: A shot of the sunlight’s reflection in a brook amongst other natural things and the title and author of the poem]

moonstruck (adj);
unable to think or act normally, especially because of being in love

entry 1:
the air begged for goosebumps against my neck. i felt hazy sitting by the brook, hearing its subtle whistles and whispers. she was the only thing on my mind now; not the sun beginning to lay down, not the tea i’d make once i went in, not even the bugs biting at my legs. i tore out a page in an aged journal and a pen to silence the thoughts gnawing at my focus

“hey..i don’t know if people still write letters anymore
but i kinda wish they did.
it’s the only way i can really get things off my chest and feel fulfilled.
i write to you in hopes...false hopes that you will consider something before making your decision.
i see your heart in this tormented world.
i see it floating down the stream of consciousness like a note stuffed in an empty liquor bottle. but angel, i see the beauty hidden.
i see the moss reaching its fingers into the pool of serenity.
i see flowers in bloom, dipping their roots into the soil.
i see your hesitance. why so hesitant?
something must be holding you back from letting go…
do you see the beauty too?
in another world perhaps,
we could see that beauty together.
in another world i could give you
everything you deserve
and more-
we’d sit at the edge of the bank together,
spitting cherry pits
and waiting for the stars to peek their heads out
i hope you stay out longer than the stars.

i hope you see the beauty too, if not i’d be happy to send a mirror with my next letter.”