The Moon Never Speaks On The 9th Of May
Don’t tell me you love me when yesterday, before my eyes, the moon cried.
Today I awake soaked in blood, my murdered heart had tasted the truth.
Your sour lips, impenetrable by mine that didn’t know how to curse you.
Don’t tell me you love me when yesterday, while I looked at you, the moon disappeared.
Leaving my questions vacant, it hid and cried exaggeratedly because it saw you in arms that without a doubt weren’t mine.
Blood runs down my chest, my torn flesh screams pain, lips humid with truth cleave through your kisses, poisoned by my love...
I feel,
Suffer,
And die,
Emerged in hopelessness, screaming my pain.
The moon never spoke, it only cried with realization...
The deception, its own cruel disillusion.
Bitterness and tears flow like a rock melted by my veins, your response to my questions,
Poison
While the moon never spoke.
About the Creator
Stephen Betancourt
poems have different melodies, which shapes their theme; they are meant to be read soft or in a strong voice but also as the reader please. SB will give poetry with endless themes just to soothe and warm the heart.
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