I've always admired the moon and the man who lived there. He keeps all the secrets of the earth, the stars and everything else. He keeps them all. He is the man most trustworthy, he was the man everyone turned to when their bodies could no longer hold it's own weight and it combusts, spills out until there is nothing left. He knows all your secrets, the ones you didn't even know you had. The ones you whisper to yourself as you body shakes and tears stream down your face, the ones you deny, the ones you repeat over and over again in your mind thinking that the more you say it the less real it will be. Secrets are secrets and the man on the moon knows them all.
