> old money - lana del rey
When it feels like a dream, where is the line between reality drawn?
The stars above, the stars beside me. Tall grass rustling, the wild wind a-moaning.
Their eyes were like mirrors or, more like the deep end of a clear lake. You graze the surface, it ripples, glittering and quiet. You don't realise you're drowning until you can no longer see the stars.
"I'm not sure how divinity feels like for others," They murmured between the singing of the meadow and the howling of the wind. "-but it feels just like this for me."
"And how do you feel now?" I asked, feeling the crinkling of the wet grass beneath my ears as I looked back above.
"Incredibly small." They smiled as if it was something to be happy about.
Just like spaces between the stars, there were sometimes silence between us. It was a comfortable and gentle kind of quiet. It made my ribs feel too small.
They were right. I felt like dust, soil, like things not easily missed.
It was terrifying. And liberating.
"It is lonely, being small." They raised their hand and traced the sky with their fingertips. "That's why I was relieved to have met you."
"You gave me the gift I had always craved. To be a little more than dust."
"...is it worth it?" I asked, watching as the stars dimmed and shined, as the huge violet clouds inched slowly. "Worth sacrificing your divinity for."
"Time spent with you was worth sacrificing everything for." They spoke, and I realised stars were brighter in their eyes.
"Divinity meant nothing to me." The wind suddenly calmed. "But it was the only thing I could give."
"You gave me what I needed—companionship. And what I wanted, an end." This time, their smile was like summer rain.
"Why do you want to die so badly?" My sudden question was almost lost to the wind.
"Because I want to live."
