The sun is everything The sun is my earth... My earth is covered in fire, fueled by my anxiety, and spread by my desire by which I can't put out.
The comets that fly through my atmosphere break into tiny rocks that are so small they are pop rocks to my tongue that never pop but only burn, which leave scorch marks in the sky, that remind me of a crinkled newspaper halfway burnt, but still where you can read where the stars are.
My name is not found there. But the sun speaks of my whole name fondly...
YOU ARE READING
This Life
PoetryPoems I have written that I have decided to share with the world finally.
