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Mar 2015 · 435
His Moon
poeticme Mar 2015
"you are my moon and I am your wolf,"
he said
"you pull me towards you,"
he said
"every night."
he said.

what he didn't say was
"do you want to be my moon, my love?"
"do you allow me to be your wolf?"
"would you pull me towards you?"
"every night?"

'cause maybe, just maybe, she was a free spirit
wanting to become the wind
to love, but to not be in love
to be loved back, but not held down.
Feb 2015 · 471
trapped
poeticme Feb 2015
in a tiny room I stay
all by myself
loneliness is my only friend
it goads me and it chides me
into the tiny space I created
for no one but myself
inside my tiny little body of an 8-year-old
where no one, not even my only friend can find me

— The End —