ILovePUNdertale

i wish i wish i could fly so i could fly away from all my problems so i could fly us to safety from criminals and politics and guns and harsh words that sting the soul i can’t fly but i can try even if i never fly i’ll protect you

madness identifiably the most undeniable and reliable thing a person can say about themself. madness is a small thing we all have it we all give it to each other with words and motions w e ‘ r e     a l l     m a d     h e r e

Eyes to see the world Eyes to see her face Eyes to stare into space Eyes to see the sunset Eyes that shine bright Eyes to close as sleep comes in the night

I like to imagine that galaxies are blankets, wrapped around their different solar systems. I visualize myself as a planet or a star, wrapping myself in the blue and purple. I imagine that the galaxy is soft and warm, like a cotton sweater fresh from the dryer. Then I turn the galaxy into that sweater, and pull it over my head. It feels like an embrace, an interstellar hug. I enjoy the softness for a minute longer, then release it and the galaxy turns into a coat. It feels heavy and weighs down on me, but it’s strong and keeps the rain of asteroids off of me. I stare at the rest of space, empty now of the colored decor, and decide it&#

Music flows. Music moves fluidly through the mind, sometimes getting stuck in it. Music can come to you anytime, anyplace. No matter what it sounds like or what it’s about, music is instigated with movement. The motion of a pianist gently tapping the keys, which reverberate with a thousand possibilities of songs that have never been heard, songs that only come from trying. Trying to create a new symphony of harmonies. The motion of a thousand possibilities. The motion of a thousand ways to share the music of life and love and longing. The thousand ways of motion to share life and longing. The longing ways to share love. The loving way

A glowing screen, a muffled scream. A door locked, a stifled sob. A dark room, a hanging gloom. A loaded gun, and the world is numb. But the glowing screen is her friend’s text, Of “are you okay? Do you need to talk?” And the scream was into a pillow, And the door’s doorknob unlocks. The stifled sob was her crying to her mother, and the dark room was her bedroom, lights turned off. She needs to sleep with her blankets soft. The hanging gloom is her nightmare, That she won’t ever see them again. The loaded gun is tossed aside, and the world comes back as she’s hugged tightly by her best friend.

Stars. Billions of shining, shimmering lights in the sky, all glittering brightly, all unreachable, yet still so close. White, and still all different colors of shine. The sky behind them dark, but illuminated. I lay on my back, staring up at the light show painted above me, thinking about stars. How many are there? What do they look like up close? Why do they shimmer if they glow continuously? Questions roll through my mind, but I hush them, all quiet for instead the thought of peace, of silence. The silence grows, until I am enveloped in it, in silvery nothingness that becomes larger the longer it lasts. I am enveloped in silence, and then

Stars in her hair She brushes it with a galaxy Her dress is the Milky Way Her eyes are solar systems Her hands are the universe Her ball is a planet She tosses it to her sun-dog Whose name is Cosmo But it falls into a black hole