the moon doesn’t tell you

the moon doesn't tell you to hide under a blanket

so that the monster doesn't grab your feet

after the night has dissolved to every corner of the sky

you look at the crescent wide awake among lies

roots crawl up your toes, caressing your knees,

you see it climb up parallel to your ribcage, all-around your neck

the moon doesn't stop you from worrying

because anxiety is moonlight reflecting in every part of your body

you are scared to turn off the lights because monster under your bed will crawl

you will gasp for breath but you might as well drown

because the moon doesn't tell you to forget all it implied.