You

You aren't my moon,
To reflect everything I bestow upon you
In the dark.
You are my mirror.
Letting the real me show up,
Hiding no flaw nor a mark.

You aren't the wind,
That blows me away,
Or makes it difficult to stand.
You are the breeze
That does me cool keep,
And plays with looser hair strands.

You aren't a dream,
That is gone once seen.
Or right there, and not in my hand.
You are the truth,
Though surreal and crude,
Unbelievable and beautifully unplanned.

You aren't a place
That I go to to hide,
Where someone me might follow.
You are this journey,
That is us, that is me,
And mine, today and tomorrow.