Under the lotus moon, holes like seeds, we flew. We had nothing to our name, we had no one left to blame. We had nothing left to do. So we flew.
And it was lonely, and we cried, and we fought, and we lied, to each other and to ourselves. But we had nothing left to hide. Lies can only get you so far. You need truth and stories to get you the rest of the way to the moon.
Sometimes, when we stared into the dark, we swore we could see the horizon and the rising sun. But there was no horizon, and there would never be one again. Not while we flew. Never again.
