Oh my friend! I’m loving that you went brave with poetry again. But also, this is, I think, the darkest take on the prompt I’ve read yet. I can see it as the ultimate for certain aspects of the concept though. We’re such weird social mammals. It’s so weird to be where I am now, seeing imperfect impressions of how various people’s varying levels of truthfulness have served them.

Maybe Wilde’s laying in the gutter and looking at the stars isn’t enough if we aren’t also being true to building the rockets to reach them, but nothing is immutable. That Ryan is as attainable as he ever was. Man, you’ve got this.