The Sun Poem by Ellen Rose Guilaran

The longer I stared at the Sun, the more it burned me,
I hid from it, fearing I was of evil and deadly creatures of the night that could not withstand its brilliant life.
But it is found out that I was, and I've changed.
I used to love the sun, and its phases but I also loved others--the Moon and celestial phenomena.
It never tires of searching for me and whenever it does search for me, I run cowardly for fear of this intensity.
The Sun never likes that I tried to love other things while loving him, yet he always loved another in the form of platonic.
I tried to nuclear bomb my way to this but alas! the Sun is much more powerful
and when it finally left me alone, the coldness of the night left me cold, lonely, heartbroken, and yearning.
'When will the Sun come back again? ' asks the child. 'Never will', I replied.
Although the Sun brought out all hope, it got too much that it gave me diseases that are skin-deep.
It also left me with invisible scars...