#100eb

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Hasn't the moon always been so pretty?

You've never paid much attention to it. It's never been your thing. Just another part of the world, another part of the cycle. Ever-present. (it never

leaves), everything and everyone always leaves. There are too many constants in this world of non-constants, things lasting too long yet not quite enough. Nothing you build will remain standing for long, always will be destroyed. But the dirt will stay, and so will the destructors. (ever-watching,

the moon) is always there, you feel like. Even when day rises, even when it shifts to its darkest, eclipse-like state, you can feel it. (it fails to brighten your lightless world, you miss the light but you

forgive it for leaving)

You work by day, by night. Light doesn't mean much anymore. It doesn't. Standing on top of one of your towers, on the edge, you look up at the moon, hanging directly over you. It's brighter than usual, you being so close to it. You can almost touch it. (you wonder if itll miss you, and you

fall), you want it to fall. Down onto the ground, join you. It can't end your suffering, (but it can

join you)? Can I join you? What would I have to do, to be one of your stars, up in the sky?" (to not be

alone). You're alone. That's another constant. You blame the moon for it.

The moon isn't supposed to be out during the day. You've long since resigned yourself to only seeing it s faint light during the nighttime. But there it stands, on a cliff, maybe it finally listened to your pleas. Something finally listened to you. (you take it at face

value), nothing has value in your world. You show the moon your treasures, and the night wiped itself from your mind. It's not important now that it's joined you on the ground. ("do you want to

help)

The moon leaves you too, as it does every night. You should have realised that this time would be no different. (it leaves,