The Aftertaste

Ninety Two

I am not clay
For you to mold
And I am not glass
For you to break
I'm a beam of bright lights
A cosmic child
At most
Made of fire and gold
Of wishes never told
The conqueror of the dark
The savior of the broken

I will not bow down
To your expectations
And your ideals
Of what you think I should be
I'm a stray star
Brighter than the sun
A celestial wonder
One you've never seen before

-and you'll hold your breath every time you look at me