Conversation with the moon

You know all my secrets, my fears, my truth

Send me some light, illuminate my night

Darkness is heavy, close and thick

Thoughts of her leaving are making me sick

Over and over, I try not to think

Pleasantly numb with cigarettes, and drink

I keep humming her favourite song of a golden field

Preventing itchy fingers from sending a text

Moon please help me

I cannot yield

Messages, I can no longer write

No longer my warmth, on cold lonely nights

Yes! I am stubborn, all or nothing with me

She’s obligated, and needed

No way is she free

We talked, laughed, loved, crossing no lines

Staying true to each other, not a single touch

Saying words like  “I cannot”

Followed by “but, I love you so much.”

Now! Without any access, we drift and pretend

We’re doing just fine

“My heart’s on the mend”

In denial by the minute, telling myself “She’ll never be there”

Deep down I know, she really does care

I must suck up this pain, be strong, stay alive

The future will bring what’s meant to be

So, Moon, hear my plea

Tell her I love her, and think often of me.

©paul

 

 

 

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