Why is the moon so big?
Why is it grinning at me?
It’s drawing closer, ever closer, so close it makes my mind tingle. I can feel gravity warping around it. I can see the waves pulling back.
My mind pulls back with it. Soon, it will be too late.
The grin is coming for us all.
Run, run, flee, flee, it does not matter. The white, soulless grin of the moon will find you. Always will find you.
Gnash and wail, yell and writhe, it’s pressure shall crush and burn you.
Play the flute. Wait for death.