What He Can't

Maybe he didn't know 

Maybe he shouldn't know 

He's the kindness untainted 

Innocence I've wanted. 

The darkness couldn't reach him, so it sent my shadow to devour instead 

But he shouldn't know 

that his bed hides no new monsters— she lays under him 

legs spread feeling love raw 

The pleasure builds between their bodies; release felt like a sigh of relief 

He was built for this— 

light and airy 

for consuming and idling 

To admire but not stain 

His hands were to fit mine, 

to hide the bony fingers of my nightmare 

He doesn't hear those whispers Or the gentle moans of our moon He can't handle the haunting; 

that's a guilt-soaked robe 

paid for in tears and a promise 

one of a happy ending 

he remains waiting 

The truth can stay hidden 

When the light of the morning shines the ugly ones hide into her creased smiles The curse will reap me too

and take without order 

She'll apologize for the omen 

He can't believe what creature he became

Eon is a Filipino queer writer with a passion for writing about the complex human emotion. They like to watch movies, listen to music, and listen to podcasts in their free time.