Thief

By sara_nia

Run through. Over and over
Like pin prick scars all over my body.
My pale skin reflected the light
Of moonbeams, once. Poetic.
It has to be poetic
For me to want it.

And that’s the trouble.
This was never in verse.
This stabbing stanza
Like a twisting blade.
My blade. I lay claim, at least.
But I cannot pull it out.

Or won’t.
I wonder now why
It’s truly present.
Why I let it rest
Between my heatstrings,
Plucking patient.

Do they know, I wonder? Them?
And are you even aware?
I sometimes wonder
If my moonbeams
Are gone
Forever.

Document
Thief

Created: May 09, 2010

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