"God knows there are enough hacksWriting about the apocalypse.That’s not the point.This isn’t a..."

“God knows there are enough hacks

Writing about the apocalypse.

That’s not the point.

This isn’t a story about nuclear winter,

It’s about the way your mouth lit me up

Like a flash bomb

How I still can’t hear for the ringing in my ears.

This is how we’ve been furnishing our apartment

The way you dig out a bomb shelter—

Because sometimes love is an ugly thing

And sometimes you’re fighting for scraps

At what used to be the kitchen table.

But you keep going.

Because the world is red and bruised, outside

And there’s no way to go on surviving

If you aren’t holding someone’s hand.

.

Sometimes you’re the run-on sentence and you just have to keep running.

.

Maybe there’s a sunset and maybe I don’t want to see it.

Maybe this is the two of us

Shoved into a car your shoulders are too broad for,

Chasing down the sun across the curve of the earth.

Maybe this is how we forgot about the ocean

How we found ourselves on the warped glass

Of an unfriendly shoreline

With the moon on our backs

And the sun, a legend to tell our children at night.

This is not the kind of love story

They write about in children’s books.

We have always been something bigger

Darker and scarier.

You said you’d follow me to the end of the world,

And I spent my whole life reading Isaac Asimov.”

- To The Moon and Back, by Ashe Vernon