galaxy minds

Always be gentle with your sadness.

TiP

‪Do you know that you rest inside my lungs? But you are so heavy, so heavy that my bones get weaker and weaker with every thought of you, and my breaths are turning to sighs as I try to let you out.

i think that it’s a human desire to become a legacy. we want to leave a mark on this cold yet forgiving world and i say forgiving and not unforgiving because despite what humankind’s coarse hands and harsh ambitions have done, the world has always found a way to grow flowers in warfields.

I think the problem was, I viewed him as the golden hour. That one hour of the day around 6 am that the sun turns everything to gold and it feels as though magic exists because there’s no way something so beautiful could be real. But he only viewed me as the sunset always there at the end of the day despite what he did. I no longer think of him as the golden hour and he no longer thinks of me at all and it’s not as easy as it once was. But it’s okay because the golden hour is still my favorite time of morning and one day I know someone will look at me too like I’m magic.

And what of the stanzas we never sing, the third that mentions “no refuge could save the hireling and the slave”? Perhaps, the truth is, every song of this country has an unsung third stanza, something brutal snaking underneath us as we blindly sing the high notes with a beer sloshing in the stands hoping our team wins.

i could grow fond of many things but how particular my fondness of you how fervent, how violent, how gentle i think we’re just moths riding on the backs of giants and i wasn’t drawn to you because our wings are both blue but because they’re the same colour as everyone else’s and you were willing to listen to why that scared me