Moon Bits

The moon splits and spills its hot milky tears.  The night becomes heavier.  Genders reverse from confusion, seeking answers in the hearses from where they were born.  The blue liquid that continues to drip down the stars haunts the empty black.  A calm, yet sad as the sound of glass breaking echoes through the void.  It hurts as it tears throughout the vast dark.  Feeling lost, the hands turn pale in recognition to the strength of their grasp, holding on to nothing in the dark.  The pale color more prominent than the blues of the moons foam.  

It's suppose to be quiet up here.  

Complete silence, yet all heard is whaling.  Remember the skeleton that was there the day of birth?  I do, but didn't think I'd see him so soon.  

He's scary.  

I miss the days of not seeing him.  Those were the times you were around instead.  

The moon is almost empty now and time moves slower.  The skeleton has disappeared, he only came to say he wasn't needed.  Digging too deep in the deepest place of all of course will not get you far.  things are just things.  

The moon bubbles and breaks, but it's still the moon and it only does that not to cause pain, but because it knows it's time.  

Pieces float through black, I see them now that the pale hand have grown dimmer.  I start to gather the pieces of moon bits, trying desperately to glue them back, but I can't hold on to all of them.  They slip through my fingers and laugh as they fly further from my reach.  It's then I recognize why there's no silence, the whaling comes from me.  I didn't create this, but I am apart of it, I'm apart of this plan and I don't know what they want from me.  I see the skeleton one last time as the last drops leak out of the empty moon.  

He sews it back up, using his bones as thread.  I call out to tell him it needs to be full again before he finishes sewing, but no sound other than the whaling cries come out.  And once again, I'm not heard for what I truly wanted to say.  I look down at my hands to see something that will rid me of insecurity, but find I have no hands, nor body.  I have become the darkness I was swept in.  

The moon is dim, this I can see even when my eyes are nothing but darkness.  

The skeleton finishes his sewing and slips what he didn't use of his bones inside the moon.  The moon shuts off.  It too is nothing but black.  I'm stuck in the dark.  The whaling fades to a close.