Your mind is a galaxy that I had the chance to observe. I gazed at your stars and worshipped your planets. I laid out on your moon, overlooking your craters. You thought they were ugly, I thought they were beautiful. You were beautiful. But all stars die out eventually. The star that represented my love exploded, bursting quickly and intensely, and I was directly in the line of impact. Now I'm standing in the rubble, looking through my broken telescope, but I can't see your galaxy anymore.
