Serpentine galaxies wriggle in the night,
Stars pulse, a million watching eyes
And the moon is a glowing button, sewn to the sky.
White noise sparkles in my mind,
Unraveling and shrinking like wads of paper
The atmosphere holds the earth
In such a motherly way
The heavens stare down in disbelief,
Wide-eyed like they're watching horror stories unfold
Dramatic irony clings to us.
We are the unknowing hosts of trillions of tiny parasites
Making angels out of our atoms
As if they were snowflakes on a landscape
But the real angels tear out their hair
In a stress-filled sky
Trying to scoop us up with their horizon-hands
But failing, only leaving trails
Of golden red behind.
YOU ARE READING
Jars of Stars
RandomThis is a collection of the poems I've typed up on my iPad. I've noticed I enjoy incorporating nature and space into my poetry, so if you dig nature and space read my poems! Some of them are dark, some are brighter, some rhyme and some are just word...
