A late summer’s afternoon,
You tasted things you’ve never tasted before.

And you decided to stop deciding things,
And just to feel.
And to eat a mango,
And a lemon,
And a peach

Even though they’re all a little too ripe.

“Stop saying those things! They have certain connotations!”
“They only have connotations to you.”

How very true. You couldn’t say any of it aloud, but that’s how it played in your head.

The Game is to never show how you really feel,
Because everybody will run.
They will run, run, run away.

And what you want more than anything is endless attention,
But you’re too embarrassed to say it.

So you pretend like you want nothing. Nothing at all.
That’s how you get it,
That’s how you get what you want.
That’s how you make it through these humid, nasty
Sliver moon nights.

Sometimes, I feel like when the Sliver moon is out,
It wishes it wasn’t.
It wishes that it could either be completely there…
Or not there at all.

And that’s how you feel too.

“Sweet moon, I know.”

Try to be happy.