"Let me be your moon." He begged me. "And you could be my ocean."
As breathtaking and brilliant as the moon was, it was not enough superficial beauty to cover his craters.
The moon always keeps a piece of himself hidden-shielding himself in the raven feathers of the night. He would never tell me the whole story, forever savoring pieces just for himself.
The moon's light is nothing without the sun. The moon has no light without reflecting the beams that stream off the sun. My moon would leave me in the dark of a couple speckled stars as soon as he found true love: the sun.
Once a month the moon becomes a 'new moon' and seem to vanish. Every time he would claim to be a better, newer him, he'd fall into his old habits. Not even the lonely can love a waning moon.
The moon controls the waves of the ocean and he wanted to control me. The closer the moon is to earth, the more force of gravitational pull the solar body has on the waves: causing the vast beauty of blue to crash repeatedly into rocks and itself. I don't want to feel the silence of a peaceful ocean for the rest or my years after you leave me with out any direction, but I don't want you to come so close I don't know who I am anymore and become a multitude of deadly currents.
The moon will never cress an ocean wave, or hear her rhythmic waves. He will stand in front of me and appear to be in reach. I will dream and imagine the day he'll ripple my surface with his fingertips or explore my depths of my mind, but every time I reach out I will never caress my pearly rock.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"I know that sometimes for people, I feel like too much; But let me kiss away the phantom pain that the scars remind you of, Let me kiss the burns on your hands, From when you touched the burning fire within my soul. Let me show you that yes, I am...
