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I’ve been screaming for years and no one has ever heard me.
The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.
A shame, really, that such striking looks should be wasted on such a miserable human being.
The human imagination is often disastrous when left to its own devices.