You came home one day carrying a few bottles.
Telling me a few words;
"Angel, demon, or human, we have no long life until we die; why not drink with me to celebrate the moon?"
I remember joining him.
We both sat in bed;
Staring out the window up at the large moon.
I remember studying you.
Smooth dark skin with silky blond hair;
Your light blue eyes reflecting the moon as you looked at it with wonder and delight.
You had the hiccups and tried to stop it;
We laughed about it until you turned to me for guidance.
I was drunk;
I should've stopped you.
You had problems breathing for weeks;
Swaying around the house and grabbing your throat with blood dripping down your lips everytime you coughed.
I did not like the moon after that.
I hated myself, too.
I never tasted your lips after that again.
Even though you wanted it even more.
You still loved the moon even then.
YOU ARE READING
To The Moon And Back
RomanceA small short poem storey about a angel and demon who fell in love. I'm not very good at this, but I thought it would be nice to make since it was late at night. I apologize in advance for how awful it is and poorly written it is too (again).
