Choosing this is a lot like trying to land on Jupiter:
I know that the atmosphere will crush, shred,
And burn me all at the same time
(And even if it didn’t, there isn’t anywhere for me to actually fucking land)
But it is so beautiful and strange and alluring
That I keep trying to fly close,
Flirting with the storm clouds as if I think that
Somehow
I will find a way through them