Lumpy Misshapen Moon

I once met a human who would shriek. Shriek at the sky and call it slurs. Not like a banshee but with a soothing tone, a crack in their voice at times. That night i witnessed thus human using the tiniest of tools to hurt itself. Each night i rose and tossed my love. The wind would hiss and clouds would groan. Days passed thankful for a gesture the human broke. It broke free from it’s chamber and awaited, I.

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