Luna Poem by Nikola Dabic

We sit beneath the moonlight, and you speak to me of pain.
I listened carefully, every moment,
you told me how they shattered you,
how they walked all over you.

You carry so many wounds
that even my gentle touch brings you pain.
Your eyes tell me you want me to know you,
but you're afraid of every word you let slip.
You no longer believe in promises —
you seek only actions now.

You wouldn't realize how much your eyes betray you.
I watched you.
The weight of your tiny steps
crushed the sharpest thorns —
yet your skin remained smooth.

I saw it right away — you guarded yourself.
A mistake, maybe,
because you were all alone.

You had no one to share the day with,
you carried everything yourself
and were a puppet
in the worst plays,
played by the worst actors.

I took your hand and said,
"I want you to walk with me, not beside me."
You understood me —
just like I understood everything
without you saying a word.
Your eyes spoke for you,
my dear.