poem: unwolfed

And what of the moon?

has she ever sang a love song
to you?

8 thoughts on “poem: unwolfed

  1. i look at the moon every night. this is a bit of a sad story but a singer i really loved, a beautiful soul, took his life some years ago. people would refer to him as the moon when he was alive, since his love for it. the night after he died, all over the world the moon shined in a turquoise colour – the color assigned to his group and fans. since that night, i’ve always talked to the moon. cause i tend to bottle up and never talk to anyone, so the moon feels like my safe place. and every night, i feel like he’s singing words of comfort back at me with his soothing voice.

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