and I thought you were
my shooting star,
bathed in light as your
hands reached for the door
to my heart

and I didn't see how you
would come to set my heart on fire,
with you burning wings of starlight
and hellfire,

and I didn't see how you
would come to set me on fire.

i imagine all of us
like little fairy lights
strung up inside our own
shells

when the night is nigh
we shine the brightest,
but sometimes other shine
brighter, and we are blown out
short circuited

we all race for the top,
a winding christmas tree,
breaking your bulbs across
walls and beyond corners,
and the twinkle pop and shatter
becomes louder and louder,
until we rest our heads atop
the shooting star of fame (shame)

fragility, and
pain, peace, borne in unison
how it breaks me so

finger on your lip
tells me there's more than just one
ring on your fingers

in those fiery eyes,
lies a spark of calm beauty,
like colourful death

just like the sun mourns
its dying child,
caressing its dry lakes and flaming forests,
unknowingly only starting a larger spark
of death

so I mourn myself,
my youth,
burning off whatever ashes
of memories are left in the rubble
of tears and pain.

espy the boundless skies
through shards of glass and windows,
and pupil lenses, tinted red green blue,
chromatic panic, a manic display of light

beauty incarnate, as you spectate
through your spectacles the spectacle of
man and fake suns, stars of your own making,
see-through masks and one-way rainbows

as you press closer, sparks turn to flames
and flames turn to fires, burn your skin
with tattoos of smoke and pain,
but your grin only grows wider in the open air

and with a crash, it was a mirror all along,
you realise, laughing on your way down