I imagine being loved is like living on a star

It warms you at first
to know that you are someone’s prayer
their evening wish
the nightlight they hang their dreams on before falling asleep

And you smile a blinding smile as you realize that you,
one miniscule speck in the Milky Way
are a source of their inspiration and hope

God, how it burns though,
once you realize that only you can chase away their nightmares
then comfort them at the lonely hour of 2 am

And the tears they leave on your skin
are third-degree burns
because with each cry for help that you answer
everything you say begins to sound more and more like
“I will never leave”

But every star has an expiration date
and the brighter you shine
the harder it will be for them to escape unscathed
when you finally break

There is a reason it was called Atlas’s burden
To be loved or not to be loved: be careful what you choose
For when you promise to carry their world on your shoulders
it will be the first time you have everything to lose.

According to science
a star is just a massive inferno that blazes so intensely
we literally cannot get any closer to one than where we are
My tongue has never caught fire from starlight
but I’d bet against the heavens
that even if I opened wide the next time comets fell like snow
a mouthful of meteorites would not burn as hot as your lips on mine

But some see them as suicidal flames
trying desperately to leave a scar on the galaxies
frantic enough to bleed themselves dry in the process
My greatest fear was always spontaneous combustion
but I have found courage in your touch
and even the sense of urgency as you deepen our kiss
can no longer scare me away

Still others see them as puncture holes in the darkness
letting in light to keep the lonely moon warm in the night sky
And it seems no matter how tightly I squeeze my eyes shut
no matter how carefully I draw the curtains and blow out the candles
I can never escape the image of your impossibly beautiful smile that night
when I came up for air and saw the universe reflected in your eyes

And Dom Pérignon was famous for likening them to the sparkle of champagne
bubbles that danced and burst like magic in his glass
*So kiss me again
Quick before our nonexistent plans go awry
Because there is no way I can go back anymore
now that I have learned what it’s like to fly

The only thing that scares me about hell
is the thought of seeing you praying to heaven
and not being able to answer.

if you could paint the constellations to capture the beauty of your favorite heroes
then the universe would be your self-portrait, my dear

"Pluto is not a planet because it’s too small"
is a hard pill I refuse to swallow
Not out of sentiment or nostalgia
Or a stubborn resistance to change

No
I refuse because it sounds too much like
“Children are not important because they are too young.”
“Blacks/Latinos/Asians/Native Americans are not human because they have the wrong skin color.”
“Physically/mentally/emotionally disabled people are not worth are time because they understand truth differently.”
“The LGBT community are not worthy of decent treatment because they love wrong (as opposed to those who do not love at all).”
“Women are inferior because they aren’t—sorry, ‘don’t have’ *****.”

The narrow mindset behind Pluto’s exile
is the same discrimination that causes and comes from the war on terror
The same hatred that has prevented thousands from marrying and killed off millions
The same blind power that allocates almost half of the world’s resources to less than ten percent of the population

So I will not sit tight as you try to tell me that individuality is important
While your actions show me that difference is death
I promise that we will unite and attack and endure
Destroying your reign of fear until there’s finally nothing left

you said that you saw the universe when I looked at you
but even galaxies have cracks
and I am starting to wonder if my eyes are just black holes
because lately all I seem to be capable of
is seeing light and blinking it away into darkness