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Brenna Comer Sep 2018
a small flicker
just a slight light
off in the distance
a diminutive night light in the darkness

the darkness gnaws and consumes all
the light battles ferociously
growing in adversity
from a small flicker
to a raging fire

the light has won for now
thank you for being my light
Brenna Comer Sep 2018
life is like a shooting star
it blazes brilliantly
and it’s beauty captures all

until it’s dissent

after it falls it is forgotten
nothing more than a passing image
Brenna Comer Apr 2018
three simple words
rolling off the tongue
as easy as a summer breeze
they pick me up,
hold me in their arms,
repair what’s left of my broken heart,
and remind me
life is worth living
“i love you too”
Brenna Comer Apr 2018
i breathe in
hold the nicotine inside my lungs
and release as i sigh
finding peace
the familiarity of the rush comforts me
calms me
addiction is a *****
Brenna Comer Apr 2018
hand in hand
bodies contorted
heart pressed to heart

we became one
Brenna Comer Mar 2018
objectification goes two ways

some men daydream about Kim Kardashian’s ***
some women gawk at pictures of Zac Efron’s abs

we all argue with one another
and complain about double standards
while continually perpetuating them

true equality will only come
when we see more than our bodies
when we look past physical appearances
and understand
we are more than our shells

that at the core
we are all humans
with goals
and anxieties
once we learn to look into each other’s souls
we will all truly be more than
  Mar 2018 Brenna Comer
I would re-name the planets after galaxies in your eyes.
The stars finally know what it feels like to burn with envy.
There are constellations tracing the soft skin of your back.
Following dips and curves, I would draw maps with *******
of everything that matters.

Freshman science taught us about untouched miracles;
and just like that-
the ultraviolet cosmic phenomenon
fixed us to spiral arms in far-away planetary
nebulas, like the ringed Cat’s Eye.

The milky skies whispered
so that only we could hear,
"Heaven's dust will fall"
You feared last night you could hear the earth
cracking under the weight of the universe,

paralyzed with a crippling guilt
you'll only see the stars after they've died.
Neighboring nova would spectate
our telescopic wavelengths-
needing the prisms to reflect on

our kaleidoscope refractions.
No matter the efforts of a tangible spectrum,
one could never quite touch our frequency.
Between lazy and lively,
our whitecap love remained visibly invisible.  

Our infrared vessel to space, raced clusters of runaway stars
past post-distant intergalactic bodies,
shooting through beasts, astrologies, gods.
We window shopped stellar bursts of dust clouds
above our clouds, a gravity shelter.

Meteors became our faithful companions
glowing gassy flowers of dusty debris.
The pressure (we couldn’t touch) generates combustion;
atoms gazing psychedelic pinks, greens,
soothing tones of aquamarines.

Ever since then you've been the glittering
black hole, heaving me in.
The only thing I’m able to taste is  
the way your luminous Milky Way kiss
gives gifts of halos to terrestrial light rays.

But the flavor of your lips are the
battalions inspiring the star shining front lines-
Integrity a marathon taking laps
to the moon
to Pluto and back, the long way.

Blizzards of stars rewrite our language
in the moon beams,
guiding us past lost letters to Pluto.
How do you sleep among dancing stars
while the rest of the universe watches?

I made my home in your eyes
and you made your home in the sky.
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