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Literature Text
.
the galaxies were held in his eyes.
i.
supernovas contained in something the size of a dime
nebulas colliding, impartial, hazy, indistinct in their numbers and forms
the milky way, splotchy, incomplete,
more like a spilled paint mistake than god's masterpiece.
ii.
we sat on his bed, ragged, well-loved like everything else he owned.
we talked about how we'd leave one day,
escape the suburban life,
trade it in for some other adventure.
and i asked,
"why do you like girls who are ugly?"
he gave me a look, then turned away,
"i like a girl with stardust in her hair,
constellations illuminating her face.
that's why i like you."
he smiled slightly.
maybe he's right,
maybe one day i'll be a starchild, too.
iii.
we were starchildren,
floundering before a polaris stuck atop every streetlight,
and though we followed it's light,
we were lost.
lost like sailors who couldn't see.
lost like dogs who couldn't smell.
lost like children who'd forgotten to hold their mother's hand.
he spoke with the northern winds,
"let's go.
tonight.
we'll leave on our own terms."
and maybe i agreed.
maybe i promised the stars to him.
iv.
and when he wakes in the morning,
there'll be new galaxies in his eyes,
and suddenly he won't be the same,
and suddenly i won't look at him anymore.
.
Literature
there are galaxies in your eyes
There's a universe
inside of you-
it's been there quite a while,
and I only hope
you see the constellations
that scintillate in your smile
and I've heard
there's billions of galaxies
scattered in the sky,
but I swear
at least half of them
are resting in your eyes.
Literature
he saved me
, but he killed me.
_
i. first light- i met you in a crimson forest.
it was a rose garden summer, and out of a black mercedes
you walked out, your five year old eyes greener than
sunlit saplings
you reached up to pluck a rose from its stem, and offered it to me.
"what's your name?"
daddy told me that i couldn't tell strangers my real name.
I looked at the rose in my hand.
"Rose."
you smiled, you were a seastorm of now long-gone innocence.
i didn't understand
but I knew.
ii. i forgot about you for
1562 days, 11 hours, and 22 minutes,
you shouted
my name, but i didn't recognize you
until i saw your
Literature
now i see the stars.
there was a time when i
couldn't catch my breath whenever i
thought about you , (crippled lungs and-
boy, you hit me like an asteroid,
there's a crater on my chest now that I can't ever seem to fill,
even with
oceans of my tears cried on
nights when you couldn't be there to sing me to sleep.
thirty two poemless days after you joined the constellations,
i walked out into the yard and howled to the empty sky,
and
for a moment i was Gaea, rivers running down my cheeks,
weighted to the ground and
buried in myself, but
where there is no light there are no shadows, and
sometimes, i wonder if i miss me.
yes, yes i do.
i may not see the moon
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Art trade with 
.
Her request:
write a poem about streetlights & galaxies & constellations &
running away with one other person to know what it's like to
leave a suburban town.
...
Title from this amazing work:
And the last line from this other amazing work:
...
Enjoy!
.Her request:
write a poem about streetlights & galaxies & constellations &
running away with one other person to know what it's like to
leave a suburban town.
...
Title from this amazing work:
The Galaxies Are Gone From Your EyesAnd as I'm walking throughby
the graveyard of our relationship,
I pass headstones with names such as:
"Passion"
"Intimacy"
"Honesty"
and "Trust" etched into them.
The flowers on the graves
are wilted and dying
due to lack of care
and I can't help but
compare their decay
to the decay of our love.
Wanted posters are nailed
to weeping willows that sag
as though they are also mourning.
"Wanted: Insecurity for the murder of Passion"
"Wanted: Distance for the murder of Intimacy"
"Wanted: Secrets for the murder of Honesty"
"Wanted: Lies for the murder of Trust"
"Reward for turning in these criminals: A Healthy Relationship"
But you and I are too weak
and too stubborn
to turn those criminals in
so we're left with blood-stained hands
and murder charges
hanging above our heads.
And the last line from this other amazing work:
How You'll Leave Mei'll draw the names of your veins along my armsby
and you'll smile be careful so i dont break the skin
but i wanna be yours
i want you to see me i wanna be that something you never not wanna be watching and you'll stare
as i burn–– human bible of your poetry
in the hellfire bleeding through the window in the stairway
chasing rats down the stairwell in spirals with you in an evening of red
hunting pockets of deadlight in the attic i'll write the names of our devils at my wrists to wear them as bracelets that tell us to die
i'll break all the vases and swallow the shards
cause i'd give my voice to give you my throat of stained glass
i'll spin in the sunblood out on our rooftops and glisten like something with butterfly lungs and
i'll howl like a basilisk and spit firecrackers i'll die like a galaxy with whiplash neck just to show you the wonder of the world on it's deathbed to show you that i could be a lovely deathbed i'll
torch the white curtains with firefoot dancing and sle
...
Enjoy!
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Comments22
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And I stand under the sky and whisper to myself
I whisper so loudly it breaks me
How can you promise the stars to the sunshine
How can you break a little bit more
After every explosion
And still steadying starlight, keep breathing
I whisper so loudly it breaks me
How can you promise the stars to the sunshine
How can you break a little bit more
After every explosion
And still steadying starlight, keep breathing