Talking to the Moon Kristen Longo I tried talking to the moon but she doesn’t want to listen anymore. She’s heard too many painful nights and cries of heartbreak. She’s bloated with the songs of drunk devotees after dark. It’s not her fault she can’t take anymore. The moon has her own dilemmas unbeknownst to those below her. Half full, longing for the sun she only gets glimpses of. They will never meet, Never touch, Never be. Who listens to the moon when she cries? The heavens pour down, wetting the ground with tears. But still she’s only a reflection of the one she loves. It’s a cruel trick played by the universe. She suffers each cycle, Destined to end in darkness Only to be forced to rise again. I tried talking to the moon But she doesn’t want to listen anymore. I used up all my time complaining, And now she refuses to show from behind the culminated clouds. I’ve realized I don’t know a thing about her. She doesn’t have name, A face, Or a voice. She only has ears cratered towards those longing for someone to listen.
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