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I’d choose the moon, always the sister moon.
Cold, comely queen of the sky.
Cold, comely queen of the sky.
Before, the only thing I was interested in was love, how it grips you, how it terrifies you, how it annihilates and resuscitates you. I didn’t know then that it wasn’t even love that I was interested in but my own suffering. I thought suffering kept things interesting. How funny that I called it love and the whole time it was pain.
but some days I can see the point
in growing something, even if
it’s just to say I cared enough.
in growing something, even if
it’s just to say I cared enough.
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