breathe in.
look at the stars, look how they shine, so glorious, so free — i think, when i'm not particularly paying attention, i mistake them for you. they dance as you do: winking, bright, with a hint of something like magic and glamour, so how could i not love them AS I DO YOU? they labor in the inky blanket of the night, beautiful in the way they continue to be, beautiful in the way they stay so far from my reach, even when i beg them to come just a little bit closer. their distance teases like the sun on the horizon LOOK BUT YOU CANNOT TOUCH. it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. i taste it and it is something i am sorely familiar with: disappointment. it is all i can be, it seems these days.
breathe out.
perhaps that is a good thing, that i cannot touch these stars, cannot touch you. disappointment colors these bones and lays across my shoulders, crushing me. i am not the stars I AM NOT YOU i do not burn particularly bright or free; in fact, when you touch me i am sure you will find specks of reds oranges yellows greens and blues on your fingertips because i am flying apart at the seams I HAVE BEEN DYING A COWARD'S DEATH, SILENT AND NOT AT ALL MIGHTY. a girl supernova just waiting to implode in on herself, a freak of nature, a wonderful catastrophe. it would do you well to remember that. if anything, i am like the night sky, silent in its misery and quiet in its touch. is it okay? am i alright? I AM ANYTHING BUT i cannot wear these colors that you so freely smear across your face with stubby fingers, always grasping for more. i suppose i would had have to come to terms with that sooner or later, and it is always better to know now than further on. i suppose.
⌑ ⌑ ⌑
otherwise entitled:
"late night thoughts"
5.28.16 || kt
