scripturient

meteor

my dear meteor,

did you mean it that way?
the last words you whispered, at least.
because if i remember them correctly,
they weren't a string of apologies.

no, it was a single sentence
one you uttered with a half-smile.
head tilted to the right, forty-five degrees of mockery,
arrogant as always, self-assured as you destroyed me.

"remember you deserve the world."

and all i can see now, my love
are the galaxies that decorate your eyes.
a universe of possibility, past your pupils
represent the cosmos that could've been mine.

beyond your exterior, isn't everything so clear?
the planets outlining your beautiful frame,
perhaps your affection could've reached myself,
if only cupid's arrow had better aim.

i could watch the stars
align themselves along your back
observe the way nature bends at your will
and how i willingly would, as well.

the way you furrow your brows,
arch your shoulders forward,
the crinkle of a brilliant beam,
solar systems i'd previously explored.

i could wander through your rings of gold,
travel between lines of symmetry forever.
i don't want to leave something that wasn't ever mine,
a landmark lodged into the final ends of time.

that place beneath your skin,
can i mark it as my own?
embedding a flag of nostalgic discovery
within the crevices of what was ours.

the truth is my darling,
when you'd dictated what i'd deserved
don't you know, you foolish boy?
atlas was cursed with the weight of the world.

don't remind me of what i'm left with,
because whatever it is, it's not you.
and now you've flown so far away,
you were a shooting star all along.

"remember you deserve the world."

my dear meteor,
if i truly deserve what you'd said,
can't you find it within yourself
to fly back to me?

looking back at it all,
how could you be so unaware?
now that our relationship is over, unfurled
i'm crumbling under the weight of the world.