written 8/15/2018
revised 6/8/2020
you say no one is going to love you.
no one will visit your grave,
no one will ever caress your hair—
no one but the wind, lonely and alone like you.
you are greeted by the rain and the sun and the clouds, but nobody waits on your doorstep in the morning.
no one leaves a rose on your headstone—
it's strange to think that someone buried you.
the remedy to your worn heart is a spoonful of stars at eve, two cups of cosmos for midnight when you are so far away from the living that you fly among nebulas.
the cure to your torn heart is a mission three steps out of orbit, conjuring laughter and love. i swear by archangel ariel, you swallow all of those words like salt and ocean and you're venturing the void with mother moon and sister saturn because you think no one else is there for you.
sun and sky, rain with bows, you will be walking yourself straight into the grave always protecting your friends like that. they aren't really your frie. they're using you like you use valium to quiet your head at night.
those monsters in your mind are as powerful as the bubblegum tangerine sunsets blooming in spring and loving on your calloused skin. they are as powerful as the love you are not getting on snowy winter nights when the winds are high and they howl and weep from the outside because you have changed so much. you are not as lonely now that you down xanax and prozac like candy. the shadowing demons in your head are as powerful as the coma you set yourself into when the sun rises and the birds are singing.
you sleep lonely in a hospital bed now, the dwindling day outside the color of blueberry and intoxicated violet vanilla; midday valentine pink fading ever so lightly like you.
the sunset is as lovely as you, but who is going to let you know?
the medicine for a forlorn heart is four rides on saturn's rings, swallowing rose petals with mama mercury and getting lost in the moon dust and asteroids rapid and high on gun powder and kindness. five sailing comets waiting for you to fly away with them, into an explosion and ecstasy of freedom.
but you are not free. even after death, will you ever know how wonderful you could have been?
you will never be freed from the knowledge you never learned, the wisdom you never earned and the memories you will never have.
you turned down a wrong road to outer space and by a single inch:
you missed me.
