the universe is enigmatic. and often, it is not so mysterious in the way that it makes us tremble and gasp in awe of its beauty.
it invokes tremors, the kind of rage and frustration that makes a body and heart collapse and kiss its toes. it's the kind of perplexity that induces disenchanted sighs and tears that taste like cynicism.
the world is anguish.
the world is imbalanced.
it is chaos and engulfing flames and bloodied hands that leave bodies in frigid heaps.
it is hard to imagine that this is the same place made of falling stars and rosy sunsets, with lovers coiled together beneath them, in admiration and tenderness.
About the Creator
melancholy galaxies
• tory edana talbott •
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