cure yourself by finding another boy, one who wants to hold your fingers as you lose yourself in flaxen starlights. cure yourself by singing until your throat chafes like sandpaper. cure yourself by telling yourself that you are the moon, and the moon is you, and she is laughing with you, shining for you, waiting for you to glimmer. cure yourself by finding the right people, the ones who grasp you with splintered paws and souls searching for whatever tastes like bubblegum. darling, you wonβt be cured right away, take it day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, donβt forget to watch the sun rise, to smell the coffee with shaky fingers. cure yourself by watching the cream dance with the shadows. bruises are only temporary.