From talking everyday to suddenly becoming strangers.
How quickly your lips morphed from a soft candy, to a bruised chorus of sad sonnets singing the sound of what we used to be.
I remember fearing my window, having personally labeled it my goodbye to the world for some time.
You hung your thick green curtains over the glass panes so I never had to cry to the moon again.
Why did you take your curtains? I call them yours because when you left, they left with you.
Funny how my heart was yours as well but you left it at my door.
Now here I am, boarding up wooden planks over every transparent farewell there lie in my four walls of a mind.
So go on with your wounded lips and dull drapery but beware of the windows adieu.
For you may have dense emerald shields, but I have the moon.
She serenades ballads of tragic endings and frigid nights.
Feel my twig like fingers frosting against your cheeks as your teeth chatter my forsaken name; so emerged by the light of Luna that you'll name your cub of it one day.
You'll recite my moniker as I pant knelt by my window, splinters in my hands coated in crimson.
