you have a deep longing for the abysmal and throw tantrums into windowpanes every night. the stars laugh at you. the moon remembers you, but forgets at daybreak. there is nothing you hold and nothing that holds you. your body knows the dark sky is a cruel place, so your eyes ask 'who do you cry for?'. you say, 'not much. not much at all.' your heart asks 'then why do you cry?', and you say 'i cry to entertain a time no one else can. i cry to bring the stars back. and i cry to remind the moon of these windowpanes.'