January 31, 2012
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The moon stood like a beacon;
Lighting the tips of tree tops,
Edges of grass gleaming white.

The wind gently swayed back and forth;
The world seemingly

He stood before me,
Engulfed in breezy grass,
Dangling my heart over my head.
Face aglow with the white of the moon.
Everything around
So soft
But his eyes were needles.
Piercing my skin with sharp pricks;
A sadistic smirk slathered on his face.

He taunted,
But I smiled back,
Flirting with the devil.

"Sit," he said.
And I did.

Just in time to look up and watch his arm
Draw back behind his head,
Slingshot forward,
And fling my heart
Somewhere into the darkness.

"Now fetch."

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