Mirror Mirror on The Moon, I’m Crippled

 

 

 

Dairy Skin

You didn’t tell the moon to stop blinking

It stopped on it’s own

stuttering, wavering, shining

 bright enough to burn

Then going blank

Not even enough time to remember

The soft rays

Just gone

We loved it for it’s power

Now we can’t love anymore

Mr. moon won’t be our chaperone

Ever again

Makes you sad,

Makes sleeping worth the wait

Makes the sky another black ocean

Raging, raging, raging

Then falling

Then screaming

Then silence

 

Spotlight

Extra

Extra

The Moon is missing                (it is?)  

        (When was this?) 

    (I didn’t even notice.)

(Then what’s in the sky?) Brave enough to ask daring questions

Daring in that almost smart question way

that can give you answers

but it’s too late

it’s gone

congratulations

 you messed it all up….

 

White poison 

you’re all so funny

so is this

a joke in the form of words

spewing out of mouths like puke

it’s gone, been gone for a long time

but you notice now?

There’s no sky

there’s no moon

never been a moonlit sky

it never existed

Don’t fear

Don’t remember

f    a    d   e 

-Jane 

 

Liquid Space 

I’ve seen myself in a mirror suspended in a completely white room. Then again I was dreaming but that’s not the point. I know what I saw and it was me, a form of myself that I had no idea even existed. I was an angel. No, a demon disguised as an angel. Probably not, but I wanted to make this dramatic. Anyway, she was standing on the moon. The moon I remember,
and she was happy and full of a nice soft light. A light that had been before, when the moon hung in the sky like a reminder.  A reminder to continue living to our best ability. Yes, that’s what I believe happened to that thing, we stopped believing. Believing in- in something. Our fate rests in our own hands. So let’s get back the-the- the…What was it called again? 

-Eli

 

Lunar Fall 

comits rain down like promises

i was promised a savior

i was handed a moon rock

and a packet of lighters

that burns holes into my pocket

now i’m out of money

and moons to give

and space

The twinkling stopped two days ago

the cites are up in flames

the water is up to our necks

but look on the bright side

I never learned to swim

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author: Timera Gaston

I write because I can. It's my own special voice and it couldn't be any better than this. This is my growth. My history. My pride. A journey lives within the each and every word. A journey that i want to continue to share.