maybe it's just too late to pretend, dangling our feet off the edge of the cliff. we seem to be hanging on by an invisible thread that is the only thing that keeps us together.
and maybe that catastrophe we call life is just too rotten to clean. so from here on, we'll be soundlessly putting images into the hopeless galaxy we share. maybe one day we'll spread our wings again and fly free, watching the endless scenery beneath us.