Evergreen

With so much emptiness, aren’t stars, planets and people just glitches in an otherwise elegant and uniform nothingness? Like pieces of lint on a black sweater? You might say that so much emptiness makes the tiny bits of matter that much more meaningful — simply by the fact that, against all odds, they aren’t empty. What if trillions of stars and planets were crammed right next to each other? They wouldn’t be special at all. It seems like we are both pathetically insignificant, and miraculously important at the same time.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

Don’t fall in love with the boy’s who hold your hair back when you’ve drank too much, Or the ones who take your hand while you’re crying and pray circles into your palms. Maybe don’t kiss the boy’s who go for midnight walks with you and stay up till 5 am to help you with that final paper due at 8. Don’t go for the ones that know your worth even when you don’t, Even when you call them to pick you up because some fuck boy left you with only a few hickeys and no ride home. Please don’t pay attention to the boy’s who take your self hate and say “you really don’t see yourself the way others see you, do you?” Oh god. Just don’t fall in love with them. Please, just don’t. Because it’s the ones that kiss your eyelids and stretch marks that fuck you over. It’s the ones that tell you the truth that bring you to your knees. It’s the good ones that leave you curled up in a ball for months begging for the bleeding in your gut to stop. And it’s all because they’re the unforgettable ones. The boy’s who leave so many marks of love on you that no one can compare. God knows they’re it. Fuck. You were it.