moons.

this is not what i have done,
not who i'm becoming.

it was only a thought brought on
by the vanishing of the moon,
when you asked your mother
where it had gone.
how could something
so beautiful just disappear?

but you know that it was
a cold thing,
just like your mother.
beautiful, mysterious,
but cold.

over the years, you grew up the same,
and the world forgot,
stopped questioning the darkness,
and lived the same as they always had.

but you grew up cold,
heartless, it was said.
just like the woman from the moon.