1 universe, 9 planets, 7 seas, 7 continents, 809 islands, 204 countries, and I had the unfortunate luck of meeting u
THERE ARE 8 PLANETS, YOU UNCULTURED SWINE.
VIVA LA PLUTO FUCK YOU
I’m pretty sure “Viva la Pluto fuck you” is the best sentence I’ve heard all week.
His palms are sweaty. In his mind, he’s ready, but yet his breath is heavy.
He fears the unknown, he fears coming home.
His mind is turned and twisted, yet he’s afraid he might’ve missed it
He doesn’t want to become a statistic.
He brought me home to meet them,
but before the door opens,
His fears—he must defeat them.
He grips my hand, cold as ice
He fears his parents knowing that I’m his one vice.
He knows what’s coming isn’t always nice.
He doesn’t know that I can feel the pain that burns like fire,
I feel it as his voice travels down the wire;
His voice wavers and tapers off.
He tries to choke back his tears with a cough.
I’m confused at what I see before me,
This grown man that doesn’t know the end of his own story.
He cries as he imagines his father’s rage,
And somehow I’m the one who feels trapped in some cage.
This is why this fallacy has to end
We’ve got to stop trying to pretend
Like the world will end over two men loving each other.
It’s not like some kind of poison the world is drinking,
but the airwaves have got the propaganda that stops the masses from thinking.
He turns away, ‘cause he doesn’t want me to see him cry.
I’m hoping that he knows that I’m right by his side.
But all I can do is stand by and not get in his way.