Ethereal Illusions // Poetry Book

Constellation Scars

She awoke with the moon

You could only see her with the stars

Dressed in constellations made up of her scars

Some feared her, while others wished

Every morning her light was missed

When you are gazing up at her, that bright constellation

You're not seeing pain or struggle but a decoration

Not her frown, nor her smile, not the tears that last awhile

Or that slight shimmer of hope to keep up the good fight

Yet some still wished to her with expectation

Till she was covered in this new creation

She created those wishes with bright shining stars

That only added to her constellations scars

Those stars had piercing edges that drew out her tears

Connecting the dots with her greatest fears

She is a constellation made up from our demands

The dots our wishes and the lines her tears

We will never know that pain we caused

By simply believing in something far too much

Seen by nations and wished on by all

Creating stars, it was the down fall

With love,

A. C. Claire