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I took a few pictures of the moon with my camera one morning. The sky was just too creepycool not to.
Lately I've been thinking of the moon. She just doesn't get how badly it's going for her. The sun feeds into her insanity. The sun shines and smiles and gives in. The moon learns the love the darkness, to shut the door, to lock herself in. The sun complies, because the sun enjoys a quiet sky. The moon makes waves, though, sends the tide over the docks. The sun complies. The sun cut a slot to put food under the door. The sun changes the moon's chamber pot and stocks her fallout shelter's minifridge. The waves, the Earth, we can do nothing. Outer space is just not our place. The stars are too far to hear. They dot the sky like ants and do not see. The clouds come, and you know the storm follows. The sun hides and waits it out and does nothing. Go back inside.
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