if the moon could taste my tears
he'd be addicted to the salty yet sweet sickening feel
of each droplet of lost dreams
slide down his jagged throat
if the moon could hear my cries
annoyance he'd get night after night
of gut wrenching screams
that no one else would listen to.
if the moon could see my sadness
he wouldnt dare to help
because i was already gone and lost
in a world as dark as a blackhole.
if the moon could feel my pain
he wouldnt be able to take the agony
of the wars i battle with myself
each thought cutting like a knife
if the moon could smell the smoke in my mind
he'd suffocate in the haze of my thoughts
unable to decipher reality from fiction
and die at the hands of my burning brain.
if the moon knew who i really am
and what i desire to be
he'd back away from my presence
just like the people who tasted my tears
