Amaranthine (Poetry)

Comet Girl

i.
She's the loose thread at the hem of your sweater
you snap off without a second thought
and she's running out of time.
I see her at the park sometimes,
sitting on a bench drenched in the rain
she said she likes the blinding lightning
and the way the thunder rattles her ribcage,
she said it makes her feel alive
but her hands were always so cold

ii.
Her sad candle eyes
are reflecting the sun again today,
I see her smile
and watch the light ripple over waves
I should've seen the blue creeping up her fingers

iii.
She was a comet girl, you know
they always burn brightest
right before they flare out
I bought her a sapphire ring to match her eyes
but I guess she'll never get to wear it
Ghosts don't need promises locked in stones