B R E A T H E

l i g h t h o u s e

i read somewhere how a lighthouse is both; shelter and warning at once

it made me think of you and your dew like eyes

the ones where i could see myself; glowing and alive

i remember how sometimes, as the moon would hung like a thumbnail in the dark sky, easing us into a star filled night

the blueness of your ever changing eyes made me think of waves rushing to the shore

on one such night, while braiding my hair, you asked,

"why are the stars so far away from us?"

you used to do this often

ask questions that had discernible answers

because logic never worked for you

because you just didn't give a shit that the earth wouldn't exist, that you wouldn't exist, if the stars were close

i realized years later that you asked such questions because you wanted to figure out if i thought about the stars, the skies, the rainbows, the universe as much as you did

you wanted to figure out if somewhere behind my indifference, i cared

if i cared enough to not give you half assed answers about questions regarding the cosmos that you and i were a part of

i didn't know then

i know now

and its too late

the day i found you on the bathroom floor; cold and lifeless

the only thing i could think of was, how, i should've known this was coming

it had been weeks since you last asked me, if we could adopt butterflies