I will destroy all of me until there is nothing left of you.
You ripped yourself apart and destroyed us from the start.
You can give me a thousand stars, I’ll still crave the dying one.
And as exhausted as she was, sleep never granted her wish.
The butterfly doesn’t ask about its destination,
it just goes.
When stars lose track of each other,
the galaxies follow.
Our suffering matched, and that was the beginning of our end.
Her thorns pierced his soul and he bled the sweetest stardust.