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I want to tell the Moon the good news But its nothing So what should I whisper instead? And what do i want to hear back? Well I guess let me just hang my head out my window again I light a little fire to my magic offering That will bring me magic answers, and ask Can you ever know if the people you think about are thinking about you, too? And the night swells with wonder Dazzling, dreamy And my neck is glowing, rays of gold And I wonder if this is how my mother always wanted to feel Now the night is the scariest of blues I smell it I swear I would sip its ink If that only meant something good Could finally come out to play from behind my teeth But I dont know how to do this Even the bags under my bags have eyes So I’m just slumped across my bed staring at screens Drooling out little nothings Something uncomfortable and compulsive like prayer And now im trying to start a fight with my bathroom mirror I say that I just want things to be different And I dont want to do this all again But then a syndrome sound comes out of the furthest room Telling me its all the same And I say to that something that it can just send me the bill Because I know what I’ll owe by the end of this I am the charmer, the snake I am dying leaves, the rake Trying to see the world rest and rise And to split myself in two or three or four or more My mother told me to hope that way So I go back to hanging out my window again And I go back and make sure the Moon heard me now So I ask again I flash my black, syrupy eyes one more time [They always drown by this time of night] Can we ever know if the people we think about Are thinking about us, too? And the Moon, she’ll giggle with terror Begging me to behave And the Moon is dark now And I hear thunder in my ears again And I wonder where its coming from, where its been And I look around just trying to remember where I was And I start to think that all of this makes this all alright And I start to think that I dont think ive ever known what I wanted to be And if I could ask just one more little thing Pretty, pretty please! Do we exist when we are alone? Then the Moon screams, lighting up, shining down [And im quite literally shaking in my seat, like im molting] Does everyone always talk to you like this? Then She winks at me, its some kind of love And I stop trying to figure it out
0
Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 10:03 AM UTC
Again, Again
I want to tell the Moon the good news But its nothing So what should I whisper instead? And what do i want to hear back? Well I guess let me just hang my head out my window again I light a little fire to my magic offering That will bring me magic answers, and ask Can you ever know if the people you think about are thinking about you, too? And the night swells with wonder Dazzling, dreamy And my neck is glowing, rays of gold And I wonder if this is how my mother always wanted to feel Now the night is the scariest of blues I smell it I swear I would sip its ink If that only meant something good Could finally come out to play from behind my teeth But I dont know how to do this Even the bags under my bags have eyes So I’m just slumped across my bed staring at screens Drooling out little nothings Something uncomfortable and compulsive like prayer And now im trying to start a fight with my bathroom mirror I say that I just want things to be different And I dont want to do this all again But then a syndrome sound comes out of the furthest room Telling me its all the same And I say to that something that it can just send me the bill Because I know what I’ll owe by the end of this I am the charmer, the snake I am dying leaves, the rake Trying to see the world rest and rise And to split myself in two or three or four or more My mother told me to hope that way So I go back to hanging out my window again And I go back and make sure the Moon heard me now So I ask again I flash my black, syrupy eyes one more time [They always drown by this time of night] Can we ever know if the people we think about Are thinking about us, too? And the Moon, she’ll giggle with terror Begging me to behave And the Moon is dark now And I hear thunder in my ears again And I wonder where its coming from, where its been And I look around just trying to remember where I was And I start to think that all of this makes this all alright And I start to think that I dont think ive ever known what I wanted to be And if I could ask just one more little thing Pretty, pretty please! Do we exist when we are alone? Then the Moon screams, lighting up, shining down [And im quite literally shaking in my seat, like im molting] Does everyone always talk to you like this? Then She winks at me, its some kind of love And I stop trying to figure it out
storysketches
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Feb 7
Feb 7, 2026 at 10:03 AM UTC
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