Conversations With The Moon

Lips Of The Sea

Your words stung like
The acid that spilt from your belly
The night the earth claimed
You
The very night you left a crimson stain in your wake, crimes born like children from your hands,
You put forth no effort of claim them as your own.
The streets were a gruesome reminder to the town folk
Of what has become of them.
At the edge of the world did they dare lean a little too close.
Let the rising sea levels come as a warning.
The earth is taking back what you stole and is making use of your body.
Your rotting body, that you once hid under a coat of bone and cartilage and flesh
You said you were sorry but your words were like poison on my tongue.
Let us eat the lies you fed us and may they make home in our tummies and cause us to bleed until we are nothing but skin and raging fury
Her scream that you deemed petty was not so easily forgotten, and the thought of your hands on their bodies churned the sea into a muddy red
I was wide awake the night you set the town on fire,
The caress of the flames rocked me back to sleep
They were a gentle touch that had become foreign since obtaining your company
The sun reflected the sky on the surface of the water that stretched on for years,
creating a morbid scene so rightly fitting.
You must be nothing but bones now,
grubs made home in your eyes that were never useful anyway
Your face in an everlasting, painful grin,
you must be happy now