we opened moon-soaked eyes
to a confusion of never before seen colors
and i thought of all the half-thought out questions
that i purposely don't pursue
because i am far too intrigued by their existence
to chance letting them go,
and of all the times when i said something stupid
and wished i could take a pencil's eraser
and rewrite the world,
and i think of all the times i let somber silence
speak in my stead
even when i had a billion words to say
but thought to myself:

this will hurt you more

so i do it
and now i know even less,
because i have seen
the shadow of a moth as it burns it's own wings
against an indifferent flame,
and i have seen how the shadow is smiling
while the moth cries crimson tears of ecstasy
and how the flame says “i don't care anymore”,

and that's why i look for new ways
to take sharp objects and stab you with them.

as we lie side by side
on the grass that is wet with lemonade rain
i turn to you and point at a star,
“someday that will be you.”