Maybe to him I was a star: I was always there but to him it only seemed like I was only there sometimes; for he could only see me in his dark.
I was a star to him because when I stood next to him, he'd take two steps back, all the while claiming the reason for doing so, was that I was (too luminous, too lurid) too overwhelming up close and that he needed to put a distance (so vast and unforgiving they could call it space) between us.
To him I was just a star but I longed to be the star; I craved the idea of being the sun. For I'd always be this burning yellow orb (a star), but I just needed to be his sun. I wanted to be the one he remembered in the vibrant morning day (as the sunlight), as well as the soothing mellow night (the reflection of rays named moonlight). I wanted to be his star.
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Poems
Poetry"I know that sometimes for people, I feel like too much; But let me kiss away the phantom pain that the scars remind you of, Let me kiss the burns on your hands, From when you touched the burning fire within my soul. Let me show you that yes, I am...
