Little Moon Gone

by reminiscent-afterthought

/Sequel to Little Moon./ He understood now, and if he could swallow the moon in his lupine jaws, he would.

A/N: Written for The If You Dare Challenge DARK level, prompt 184: muzzle.

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Little Moon Gone

The sun was up
finally up
and he was coughing up blood

dry heaving, wrenching
the carnivore within
from his very being.

If those jaws
sharp and gleaming white
in yellow eyes,
he would

But it was far,
too far away
and unreachable

Like the dreams of a child

That had been ripped away so easily
from an untamed beast.

Rabid mice biting
and the disease spread

And it would take a muzzle
for him not to do the same

Or it would not be blood
he was coughing up
but his soul.