Would it be okay?
To let it all go,
fade to black
like at the end of a movie?

To let the world go bright,
a brilliant white,
created by the light
of thousands of stars.

Eyes that burn with a quiet fire,
heart that shines like solid gold.
You are a light to my constant darkness,
the one I did not know I was looking for.

I would give my life,
over and over,
if it meant you would still be here.

The eyes in the mirror,
do not look like mine.
They are tired,
and without life.
Perhaps this is who I am now,
just a tired, hurting soul,
who is just a shadow,
drifting through life,
toward the end.

Everything has a beginning,
middle,
and end.
But what if the end never comes?
What if we are always stuck in the middle?
Dangling forever in limbo—
with no way out?

Corpses cannot feel, for they are nothing but a husk,
a pale imitation of a former self,
what gets left behind.

Perhaps I am a walking corpse,
animated, maybe,
but not alive.

we are all made of stars
cast down from the heavens
and turned into
a form we can recognize.

perhaps
we are not all made for a life
on this planet
and should have stayed with the stars.

maybe that is why
some of us look for a way
back to the stars
because we were not made
for this.

Mirror, mirror,
on the wall,
reflecting back a stranger.
They say I'm supposed to be… this,
what they told me I am.
Boxed up,
labeled,
filed away neatly.

But the edges fray.
The corners don't quite fit.
Like wearing someone else's
hand-me-downs,
scratchy and wrong,
against my skin.

I try on different clothes,
different personalities,
trying to find
the one that feels real.
The one that doesn't whisper,
"You're faking it."

Everything feels like a costume,
for a play I never rehearsed for.
Who wrote this script?
And can I please get a rewrite?
Because this version of me?
It just doesn't feel right.

Why do I keep remembering?
Why can I not let go?
Why can't I erase myself?
Why can't I erase the people I used to know?

Would you notice,
if the sky turned black?
Would you notice,
If all the trees cracked?

Would you notice,
If the rivers ran dry?
Would you notice,
If the lakes began to cry?

Would you notice,
if the sun was gone?
Would you notice,
if the days ran too long?

Would you notice,
if I left this place?
Would you notice,
if you stopped seeing my face?

You used to sing
a song so sweet.
A melody made
just for me.

You used to dance
hands in the air.
You didn't care
about whoever was there.

You used to laugh
a beautiful sound.
Then cover you mouth
to hide the noise.

You used to hold me
never letting go.
I wish we could go back
to be the people we used to know.