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Again, Again

I want to tell the Moon the good news

But its nothing

So what should I whisper instead?

And what do i want to hear back?

Well I guess let me just hang my head out my window again

I light a little fire to my magic offering

That will bring me magic answers, and ask

Can you ever know if the people you think about

are thinking about you, too?

And the night swells with wonder

Dazzling, dreamy

And my neck is glowing, rays of gold

And I wonder if this is how my mother always wanted to feel

Now the night is the scariest of blues

I smell it I swear

I would sip its ink

If that only meant something good

Could finally come out to play from behind my teeth

But I dont know how to do this

Even the bags under my bags have eyes

So I’m just slumped across my bed staring at screens

Drooling out little nothings

Something uncomfortable and compulsive like prayer

And now im trying to start a fight with my bathroom mirror

I say that I just want things to be different

And I dont want to do this all again

But then a syndrome sound comes out of the furthest room

Telling me its all the same

And I say to that something that it can just send me the bill

Because I know what I’ll owe by the end of this

I am the charmer, the snake

I am dying leaves, the rake

Trying to see the world rest and rise

And to split myself in two or three or four or more

My mother told me to hope that way

So I go back to hanging out my window again

And I go back and make sure the Moon heard me now

So I ask again

I flash my black, syrupy eyes one more time

[They always drown by this time of night]

Can we ever know if the people we think about

Are thinking about us, too?

And the Moon, she’ll giggle with terror

Begging me to behave

And the Moon is dark now

And I hear thunder in my ears again

And I wonder where its coming from, where its been

And I look around just trying to remember where I was

And I start to think that all of this makes this all alright

And I start to think that

I dont think ive ever known what I wanted to be

And if I could ask just one more little thing

Pretty, pretty please!

Do we exist when we are alone?

Then the Moon screams, lighting up, shining down

[And im quite literally shaking in my seat, like im molting]

Does everyone always talk to you like this?

Then She winks at me, its some kind of love

And I stop trying to figure it out

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Written by
storysketches
31
Published
Feb 7
Lines·Words
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