It has to end like this.
The sun swallowing the world
we created and all of our moons
becoming so full on our promises,
we turn into monsters.
I swear I wanted to give you something
better than this.
I wanted to paint the sky you saw in me,
and I wanted it to be the color of you staying.
But you’re a paper kite disappearing
inside of a black hole,
and I can’t follow you into something
that won’t let me back out again.
Y.Z, I can’t keep chasing you if it means leaving myself behind (via rustyvoices)