It's strange. I'm no child. And haven't been in ages. The time when evil fairies from the book would hunt my waking hours, and wouldn't let me sleep nor turn away, so that my heart could rest, are long gone.
And yet when night's upon - I fear.
I cover myself with layers and layers and hide my eyes and lock all doors. I know there are no monsters of that kind around. But still I feel their eyes upon me. Oh, won't you leave me be! I haven't got a single soul to give you. The one I had was eaten long ago - when I slept soundly in the talons of a tender -
So the soul is gone and blood I have none, for I was born without it - what little there might have been was squeezed out by an awful lot of snakes and hawks.
YOU ARE READING
To you, I sing across the moon
PoetryOne day I sat down and spun a story to the stars above. Hoping they can keep a secret. But the moon, that traitor, turned around and told you everything I said. About you. And about this world. All my little idle thoughts grew roots and flesh. No...
